Press 53

Poetry Wednesday

Need a cure for the dullness of the middle of the week? This poem from Linda Annas Ferguson, from her award-winning collection Dirt Sandwich, will do just the trick!

Sundown

I have decided.

I will leave barefoot,

not even a suitcase,

shoes under your table.

 

We sit straight, poised,

our shadows stretch stiff

across the floor.

I drink a last cup of light

 

and remember how we

watched the coming night,

forced days to come and go.

 

But now, when the dark

presses flat against our window,

we lie naked on the bed,

 

our clothes in the closet,

bodiless.

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