Moving Out

by Beatrice Eyales

I. How long have you been
Waiting for my
Say—

(on the matter)

—Well say,

Did it fit on my sill
Just fine? And I
And this, And these,

(these words of mine)

Did we arrive in time?

II. If not, then leave the edges
Wilted pledges
Gather dust
Beside that broken piano
We never could just take with us

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Beatrice sent me a postcard from across the pond today with this touching poem in her delicate and warm handwriting. The way her ‘y’s sag with sincerity.

This post has 1 note.

carveher liked this
lieslieslies posted this