The End of Something
I would never pin this silence
to a board, but her anger tempers
sunset, and my response remains
contained. The paper stars
I nailed to the bookcase rustle
when the door opens. She
swallows wine, I sip tea
and offer no explanations.
“The End of Something” first appeared in Volume 3 of Lamplit Underground. Thank you, Janna Grace, for taking these pieces.
Lamplit Underground is a beautifully illustrated publication. Please take a look!
I’m always wanted to ask: what does it mean? What does it mean? I love the way this poem just hangs there, rustles.
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Thanks very much, Dan. This poems still disturbs me, even years after I wrote it. Guess it’s just hanging there, rustling, as you said.