I Don’t Know How She Learned of Sadness ~ Paul Dickey


I don’t know how she learned of sadness.

Our curriculum was always joy.

When we lost all her houses, she lived

well enough in mine. When we quarreled


over nothing, it reminded us how love is.

Our children came by the house and left –

bringing babies into and out of each day. 

Nothing seemed lost longer than the length


of a memory, although autumn returned

everyday to claim crisp, paper loud leaves.

They cackled in the wind, whispered

behind our backs we were getting older.


All of this got out to the neighbors

who, one by one, observed the children

no longer coming to the front door

in SUVs too early in the morning.