An Untitled Poem | Poetry | Hudson Valley | Hudson Valley; Chronogram
Pin It
Favorite

An Untitled Poem 

My. G*d. The smell on oncology is unbearable.
Feces, death, gravy... overwhelming.
The dead moss... undeniable. How could it be?
We survived this Winter together and now, you are
Void of color.
I watched you, fed you with my eyes,
warmed you with my breath -
it melting the glass between us,
double panes and all.
My damp exhales roll over you
(you close your eyes),
then lay on you.
Thick then quickly cooling.
I am not sad, I saw this coming.
My ritual of loving you
has exposed itself, and flown away.

Speaking of...

Pin It
Favorite

Comments

Subscribe to this thread:

Add a comment

Readers also liked…

Hudson Valley Events

submit event

Common Ground

Oct. 6-Nov. 13 — A photography exhibition by Ellen Lynch. The exhibit pairs separate photographs of...

View all of today's events

Latest in Poetry

More by Elizabethanne Spiotta

Hudson Valley Tweets