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Sample Poems by Meredith Davies Hadaway
Two white tails of ribbon dance
from the rail of the bridge
where the boy went
over. No one knows why. Not
the girl who decided to come
on a late-night ramble, not
the friend to tried to hold him up
in the moon-split current.
As I run across the bridge each mooring, I reach
to take a long white arm of ribbon, to wrap
the wind around my wrist before I shake it off
and let it wave me by.
This chair that curves its arms around me.
The cover of a paperback that yawns above its opening page.
The furnace rumbles on.
Between the cat and the window, a stretch of carpet that
muffles jungle heart.
Between you and me, the din of wondering.
The days that close the gap.
Let nothing--let all this--come
Like the ringing after cadence
when the bow lifts off the violin
and the room holds one last
breath of spruce and rosin--
silence makes its own music, louder
than the brush of fingertips, a sudden swell.
"Longing," in its origin means "to make long."
Turn out the light, and let us see
if we can stretch the dark until the morning din of
bird call and traffic fails
to wake us.