* the gossip
       

I don't always want what we have, she is saying.

Outside, dark clouds, fish hopping, tilling waves

back from shore. He is silent.

Sometimes more is happening, he says, finally.

The sun's coming up, she says. Look how the light is kept.

I'd like to keep it up, he says.

Don't make apart when otherwise the same, he says.

She is silent, tilling shore back from shore.

Don't give darkness a face, he says, darkening.

Tweet

Copyright © 2016 Annie Guthrie All rights reserved
from The Good Dark
Tupelo Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission