December 0

Blog Archive

Thu, 24.09.2009

A CLOSING by May Miller

In a house of empty rooms, I thought I heard a door close down the long hall.

I couldn’t know whether someone had entered, whether someone had left.

No further step, simply the closing of a door-an absence of other defined stir, more like the hum of water in a hidden spring, like a starved echo from an exacting hill I could not measure.

I reached for the reassuring hand. It was not there. He had gone ahead.

Reference:
May Miller

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Thu, 24.09.2009

WHERE IS THE GUILT by May Miller.

At last I am acquitted
My body heavy with shame.
I dip myself in the dark river,
Wash again, and once more,
What us the mass that floats from me
Down the dark river?

I am not guilty!
I am not guilty!
I tell the white birds
Flying low over my head.
(But they’re busy with each other.)
lovers, accept me, you lover!
I call to the pairs
Swept by in a canoe’s rhythm.
(No answer, no matter,
I’ll never see them again.)

I return to the waters
Trampling the hollow sedges
That do not bother to answer
Even persistent winds.
Only the river responds
Promising no unholy footprint…

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Poetry Corner

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