Rewrite of A Foreclosed Moon

for Linnea

I lie in bed & stare at her
robe that hangs blue
on the door. Its flower
print reminding how angry

I was at her – my passion for
us, disquieting my patience.
& now it just feels like something
broke & I don’t know how to fix it.

Sitting in the new silence

of my apartment I can see her

ghost spin round & around
the room & ask it,

“how did we get here?”

How did we get to this dark night?
with its broken streetlamps &
the foreclosed moon? & us separated

by the thin lonely clank of a rusted
tin can blown by an angry wind?
So strange, how one can take
a million steps without thinking

& never fall— something
as simple as one foot in front
of the other, just doing
what we always do

& then that one step

that one step too far,

& now we’re falling
falling in that space

between before
& after

trying to
catch our



out for something,
for anything

to hold on too,

—& all it happens
& it all happens so quickly


  1. I thought of how out of sync when we’re walking side by side..especially when the ground beneath us changes…you convey the emotions well to me in this verse.

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