Four

this is the poem
about 4 months
of silence

you think that is a
long time but
the poem reminds you
it is only the beginning

in it, you can hear
clocks tick
wind
an almond leaf scuttles
through the yard

it is a short poem
but the 4 months
are long

moonlight
drums on the roof
like rain

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You Might Think It Is Not A Poem

this is a poem
unable to speak
a poem that has
forgotten its language
remembers only
spaces between words

it’s a poem that is
not afraid of the dark
nor the deep
nor the far

it is brave enough
to sit right here and
not make
a sound

you might think
it is not a poem
but it is

Mice

i know you are
tired, love.
lie now,
lie still.
close your eyes and
i will watch
the breath slide
in and out of
your chest.
i will curl here
with the cats.
you can sleep
and we will keep
the mice away.