Poetry Magazine
Gravitas
The overweight, overnight parts
that came to me in a dream.
Their clothes no longer fit,
it was this that brought them
to me crying, their faces twitching.
That had to end. No, they said,
it didn’t. So I rolled over to ghosts
that couldn’t dent a pillow.
The clock shed. Night pulled its
burdens into harbor and I woke,
glad for the day, its telltale light,
its flying minute, that genie work,
and the everlasting perturbations
of my people, their glories,
their heavy last words,
and for these, I rose.
Source: Poetry (January 2013).
Biography
Sara Miller is currently a poetry fellow at the Fine Arts Work Center in Provincetown, Massachusetts. Her poems have appeared in the Yale Review, America, First Things, and Poetry Daily.
Poem Categorization
SUBJECT Living, The Mind, Mythology & Folklore, Ghosts & the Supernatural
Poetic Terms Free Verse
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