Two Evenings

R. MATTHEW BURKE

Full of seeps from faulty banks,

loose water in a rainstorm –

we are together.

It should be impossible

to know on this evening

what I know now – but,

I catch whispers in the runoff.

So, I tell you: “The water hurts

my ears,” as if to complain …

In another place, I watch

an aging mother

dangle knuckles over her son.

“It’s all a masquerade,” she sez.

But, I don’t know –

could go either way.