Today's poem is by Andrea Potos

Applied Literature
       

Too late for a hotel, an acquaintance offers us
this house high up in the village,
abandoned but for her brother's mattress
and chairs, the dust and grit of the Greek
island year sealing every surface, no heat
and the Cycladic wind like a creature rising lashing
and slapping the stone walls where we tried hard
to sleep, wind moaning (I finally decided)
like a grieving and venemous Heathcliff, beloved
book of my girlhood, and I with the chance to become
Catherine Earnshaw for one night as I pulled open
the split wood door into the howling darkness; my long, pale
nightgown billowing around my bare legs as I stumbled
outside — my moor — toward the one working place to pee.

Copyright © 2025 Andrea Potos All rights reserved
from Two Emilys
Kelsay Books
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission