You know what it is to hear a voice crack,
timbre rivering on the edge of pain
there’s a sweetness you don’t expect
that catches in the throat, a hoarse-grained
tremble between loneliness and love
like the click of the landline phone
before it rings
You could wait for the voice to speak,
hold that shimmer in the cradle
next to your ear for moments,
years ………you could lean out
the window of it, take a breath
over its far, spangled city.
•••Danielle McShine was born in Trinidad and Tobago. She has studied French at UWI and Music and French Linguistics at Indiana University. Her poetry has appeared online in The Adirondack Review and other publications. Some recent work is included in Strangers in Paris: New Writing Inspired by the City of Light. She currently lives and works in France.
Great way to start my Sunday morning. This is the kind of poem you feel in the pit of your stomach. You really know how to get to heart of that ‘thing’ that’s so simple it’s almost overlooked, and build new eyes for us to see.
Brilliant, as usual Danielle!
like Simone (above) said, you “get to the heart of that ‘thing’ that’s so simple it’s almost overlooked, and build new eyes for us to see.”
i read this and felt, understood and remembered. and that’s a glorious thing to accomplish in a reader.
Comments are closed.