Aubade
I wake up in my old house,
squinting at the seam of light
gilding the flowered curtains,
as six flights down the city's up before me.
Across the street, a woman in green
unchains the gated park. The block
fills with taxis. The light turns,
then turns back without me.
squinting at the seam of light
gilding the flowered curtains,
as six flights down the city's up before me.
Across the street, a woman in green
unchains the gated park. The block
fills with taxis. The light turns,
then turns back without me.
Copyright © 2018 David Yezzi All rights reserved
from Black Sea
Carnegie Mellon University Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
from Black Sea
Carnegie Mellon University Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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