The Truth

By Tim Dlugos 1950–1990 Tim Dlugos
Every time I use
my language, I tell
the truth. A cat
in a white collar,
like a priest with calico
fur, walks across the dead
grass of the yard, and out
through the white fence. The sun’s
strong, but the colors of the lawn
were washed out by the winter, not the light.
February. Stained glass window of the house
next door takes the sun’s full brunt.
It must look spectacular
to the neighbor in my head,
a white-haired woman with an air
of dignity and grace, who
through pools of the intensest
colors climbs the flight of stairs.
I’ve never seen it,
but I know it’s there.

Source: Poetry (July/August 2009).

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Poet Tim Dlugos 1950–1990

POET’S REGION U.S., Mid-Atlantic

Subjects Relationships, Home Life, Pets

Poetic Terms Free Verse