Almost imperceptible
thunder rumbles
over low tide at the shore
you never visit.
You imagine the sound
of a far-off train.
Someone else is passing through
this place where you must stay.
You listen to
the rain, the drums, the plucked
bass, the right-hand flutter.
You recognize, then don’t recognize
this song
playing somewhere beyond
the computer screen
the coffee cup
your waking life.
Marianne Szlyk is the editor of The Song Is... , an associate poetry editor at Potomac Review, and a professor of English at Montgomery College. Her second chapbook, I Dream of Empathy, was published by Flutter Press. Her first chapbook is available through Kind of a Hurricane Press. She hopes that you will consider sending work to her magazine. For more information about it, see this link: http://thesongis.blogspot.com/
What a wonderful poem Marianne,keep up the good work
ReplyDeletethank you for sharing it and this site,love angelee
Dear Marianne, What a skillful poem. I'm so glad to see you here. One of the best sites around.
ReplyDeleteI so enjoy your writing.
Thanks for the compliment about Poppy Road, Jo. :-)
ReplyDelete