Monday, February 7, 2011

This Week's Poem

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