When Madeleine Said No
The spotted orb spider withdrew
to a dark corner under the eaves.
Last night’s empty glass remained
empty. Books continued sleeping
on shelves, comfortable in their covers.
What do I do now, she asked.
Nothing has changed,
but the sunlight streaming in
bores through my skin,
fingers all the little crevices,
records my cellular secrets
and folds them into tiny squares,
perhaps to be exposed later.
I am alone but not alone.
All one. Like rain and a river.
Like a train’s whistle knifing
through dreams. Like the night sky
above storm clouds, and smoky
laughter wafting from a bar. A symphony,
a bible. One syllable reclaiming a life.
* * *
Many thanks to Lynne Burnett for sponsoring this poem and providing the title!
If you’d like to join in on the fun, see my September 5 post for sponsorship details.
Tomorrow’s poem is titled “Poetry in the Dark: A Speed Reading Nightmare,” and is sponsored by Ken Gierke, who may or may not be out to get me…