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All the Hours the Night Has Left
- August 17, 2020
- Posted by: dreamingcode
- Category: Poetry
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Poem written by Wendy Drexler, used with permission from the author
What I’ll never have is close to, or nearly equals,
what I’ve had. I find myself at equilibrium,
which may last only a day—the mayfly’s
brief happiness—no way of knowing
if this is happiness or merely the acknowledgment
of where I am, skittering and buzzing and looking
all around, the pond by now thick with my own kind,
the water the halfway shade of tea light and twig—
it no longer matters I can’t see clear
like the elephant god, remover of obstacles.
The first time I heard a concerto, and someone
told me what makes a key minor
is the lowered third, I listened to the sorrow
for myself. At last I can name it:
brokenness, beauty, the way through.