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September 2018
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November 2018

October 2018 posts


The moonlight dispersed by the curtain—

That’s moonlight! Not the same as realizing

the cell phone tower’s posing as palm;

not the same as that's a cell tower.

Finding the old teacup broken in the bottom

of the box, you know at once what it meant.


(You know you drove home because you are home.

Where have you been? It’s Wednesday already, 

withholding meaning. 


Looking at these hands,

seeing also what they were. Remembering her, 

decades ago, turning them over in her own,

looking then as mine do now, saying with such

grief, self-pity, “They’re so lovely, your hands.”

My hands. Her hands.)


                    Finishing the thought,

I see my face in the look you are giving me now

and know I will always know.