Sheets

After I.F. Annensky

First the sky was yellow
then white snow followed.

On a hand
was an amethyst: a cube of  lilac in hospital light.




Whose fault is it when no one visits?



Last night I dreamed
I was in a peaceful place
but woke up
freezing and ashamed.

On a side street (on my sheets)
one I loved passed
as a shadow.
Maddish, reddish, his fist
clenched for a fight.



I recalled
his body color
being soft like a child.
The drunken nipples.



Honey I called.
We were too late.
God and the gods have moved
outside the jeweled air
and sun motes   ...    

to where a star is:
an amethyst minus a poet.
This poem was commissioned by the Reva and David Logan Foundation in Chicago.
Source: Poetry (November 2014)
More Poems by Fanny Howe