Aubade
       

As if one is a shadow stitched to the other,
they sit, knees bent & parted, cradled in the basin
of the clawfoot, her belly to his spine. She leans
into him, her cheek resting against the blade
in his back, & watches the window above
the pull-chain warm from bath water to blue.
He hangs his head & keeps his hands underwater,
covering all that might split their silhouette.

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Copyright © 2015 Meg Day All rights reserved
from Last Psalm at Sea Level
Barrow Street Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission