Into Morning
by Sandy Coomer
In this version,
Irene wrings her hands
and sets her throat to sea.
She carries
a soft patchwork quilt
stitched with
last words.
There is no regret,
she says,
but she has to say that, doesn’t she?
Otherwise,
the fog that lines
the trees would turn
to mushrooms and rot
and underneath,
only a burrow of worms.
Irene, the earth
is too soft for me.
Give me acid rain.
Give me a place to rake
my fingers in sand
and follow a path out of here.
Irene, get me a belt
and a gallon of gasoline.
Get me a plastic bag
and a knife. Get me a hose
and masking tape.
The little stars keep watching
for a way out of the night.
If they can hold their breath
a little while longer,
morning will open its eyes.
Musical composition by Victor David Sandiego
Comments