by Marcia Hurlow
When you have left again,
this day reduced to a thin
cinder of sunlight caught
on your back fender, the dark
drops faster and repeats
without gathering leaf,
bird or thought, every word
a slight variation not worth
attention, a wavering drone
in the same starless night.
Marcia L. Hurlow’s poems have appeared most recently or are forthcoming in River Styx, Confrontation, The Great American Poetry Show, Mudfish, and Ellipsis. Her first full-length collection of poetry, Anomie, won the Edges Prize. Her most recent chapbook, Green Man in Suburbia, won the Backwards City Review prize.
Hawaii Pacific Review 