Friday, March 07, 2014

Another Draft of a Poem

Progression

Forget the fall.
Winter arrives early
with slushy tears.

I hear you
have cancer. I'm
afraid to speak

because you hardly
even mention it.
Warmth as far

away as stars,
you move slowly
as Earth revolving

around a numb
sun. You cover
your stripped head.

It's a cold
spring, and you
eat only toast.

Summer's ceiling finally
drops. My own
hair grows long.

I listen closely.
You still sing
in the shower.

Katherine Gotthardt
Copyright 2014
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