Poem | *

Everywhere at once, aimless

though the day lilies

no longer make a sound


are used to how the sun

can still be found in moonlight

that has no rain left to comfort


with warm stones and the mist

that is now your heart

is circling night over night


as some giant red cloud

listening for the scent

from when a flower held your hand


too long and the calm

that has its fragrance: your echo

faint from waving goodbye


About the Author

Simon Perchik is an attorney whose poems have appeared in Partisan Review, New Letters, the Nation, the New Yorker, and elsewhere. Visit his website at www.simonperchik.com.

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