from night geographies [by Elizabeth Myhr]

7

 

on the top landing of old pebbled concrete stairs

a steep block above the deep canal

rain drips down the lamppost’s bronze acanthus

falls in the wax laurel

hitting and bending the tough ovals

lightly bracelets with cold glass

the shiny painted iron rail

and washes with crooked trickles the lamp’s globe 

 

tires krish krish nearby krish wipers tick run tick

and headlights sweep across the corner

searching through rain and wrinkled birch trunks

ground floor window ledges tattered mud

and a man’s blue business cuffs and wet wingtip laces

 

I see again the wavering inverted cities

shining in the sidewalk triptychs of rain

the click click of a woman’s boots

the wind turns the stiff corner of her jacket up

 

and behind her the airplane roars like an empty cross

I have missed the flight again

Comments

[Marissa Despain]

Elizabeth, This poem knocks me out. Beautiful. Thanks for posting it. Marissa Despain

[Stacey]

I agree with Marissa. This is a lovely poem, moody and evocative. I'd love to see the rest of the poem (since what you've posted appears to be part of a longer work). Thanks.