Just Before The Dawn Broke Open
Testing the pulse of this garden
Oh how long the night is
the weight of loss shifting
its rain inside the bone of wood
near the stove
I am weeping
tell me more
this is your story, not mine
I don't have the details
the right to intrude
when you go
fill me in
I was always just this hole beneath your feet
where the seed never took
and oh
oh how long this night has become.
James Diaz lives in upstate New York. His latest publications can be found in Chronogram, Commonline Journal, A Long Story Short and Unbroken Journal.
wonderful atmospheric piece
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