Perhaps today or maybe sometime
tomorrow, I'll place you in a box. But not one
of cardboard or plastic,
but one of glass. I can keep you
off the floorboards and above
all conversation. Here behind this door
yet within my view—and know I'll never forget you as you
rest upon that shelf within
my closet within my room. If only
the blinds still worked and the cords weren't all frayed. I could open this door during the moonlight and see you without
the chair and stupid flashlight. I could watch you—as you
watch me and if you write
my name into your breath
with your fingertip—I 'd know
that you remember it and need it to
break this glass and allow us your release.
YOU ARE READING
Of Yesterday
Poetry[Completed] Of Yesterday is a poetry collection written over the last decade, and deals intimately with emotions related to loss, grief, love, recovery and renewal. The pictures used in this chapbook are my own photographs, taken and edited personal...
