The Physicality of Tragedy

She smelled like trees

She took my hand

And we ran

Through the bright rustling leaves

Caddy smelled like leaves

“What is it?”

“What are you trying to tell Caddy?”

“Did you come to meet me?”

“Benjy?"

“What is it Benjy?”

“What has Caddy done?”

I couldn’t smell trees anymore…

Caddy… Caddy

I was trying to say…

Miss Caddy done gone

I caught her… Caddy… trying to say

Done got married and left you

Trying to say and trying…

Caddy

I began to cry

I looked at myself

I began to cry

Looking for them aint going to do no good

They’re gone

We reached the gate

I began to whimper again

We all looked up

The house

Square

Paintless

Its portico rotting