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Posted by on May 9, 2015 in Love Poems | 0 comments

Poem: After the Quarrel

drowning in air

this night is groaning for your touch

hopes lost in half-light –

the censure of the doorway

remembered murmurs

and sweated

sheets where you are not

 

softly down creaking stairs, inching

past the clock’s impassive tick

over the threshold, feeling

the rough sympathy of

the garden path

 

no freedom is out here

lying on darkness and damp grass

I find only

your absence, and the stars

 

___

Emily Lock

 

 

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