Share this article

print logo

Poem of the Week by Regina Forni

In Time I Slip

By Regina Forni

I could call you a gray old man

find the folds of your face in my drapes,

the bed unmade, smoke

scudding through rooms and out

the seams of our windows

these were children, our own

quills of stray rush

who drift in the joists of a lake-swept house

foundlings, scantlings, sweet sights

like your head in my arms or some

flowers you picked

who also cry to be buried

snows will come, they could hide

the crushed reeds on the beach, shells powder shards

prints of deep streams

from fierce drought I knew you,

you held my bright heart like a globe

I could find us again aglow

I could leave you to winds, to salt

only recalling your breath in my hair in the night

years from now, I will catch a cleft of sky between trees

and see your blind eyes

and hear how I prayed, next time next time

REGINA FORNI will join poets Perry Nicholas and Theresa Wyatt at the Just Buffalo Literary Café at 7:30 p.m. Nov. 5 at the Center for Inquiry, 1310 Sweet Home Road in Amherst.