Waking to a Strange Letter
From the torrent outside a single drop
struck your cheek and evaporated
before you woke.
Nothing changed. The dream-
cluttered bedroom. The foreign
city’s timbre breaking upon its door.
The circular path of light
your mother’s lamp cut
like an incomplete halo
upon the pillow’s harsh white.
If only I could explain the sorrow and panic
of watching that tear you never wept
climb from your face and cake
in the silent half-light between-
staining our new linens.
(published in Offcourse Literary Journal)
No comments:
Post a Comment