Monday, March 21, 2011

A Poem for the Morning


The Moment
by Marie Howe


Oh, the coming-out-of-nowhere moment

when, nothing

happens

no what-have-I-to-do-today-list


maybe half a moment

the rush of traffic stops.

The whir of I should be, I should be, I should be

slows to silence,

the white cotton curtains hanging still.

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