My body opens over the city
Like the deep blue sky of dawn            Every pore at rest before daylight

You are not with me            I have slept through the night
And woken up into a peace            Not simply absence of the past
But the sudden presence of a future            Fertile for the living now and here

We had walked in the forests            The morning dew heavy on our nostrils
The sight of tree trunks black against grey mist

I had wrestled you            For our differences
The way you wrestled me when I changed your name to confuse the angel


I must’ve at last learned to learn from that strength            At last
I must have instructed myself           Come to accept the absence, for
It astonishes me that my mind, the mind that lives in this body
Seems to have let herself speak to the absence
His icy breath upon my face            And I have begun to question
Wherefore he’s gone on to reply

You have rejected me

All this time when my hands
Can open your eyes            Take you out of your own way
Unblot life from your life
I am the window in a locked room            The lost key to that room
It is I who will bring your lover back to you
Not your own death to meet his           Not another lifetime
Do not mistake me for emptiness           As I am your only abundance
And know that my existence is always within reach            A part
Fast and true inside you


  1. So pure…and compelling…as always.


    1. Thanks Bill. Happy you thought so.


      1. Yes…I did. Really perfect. 🙂


        1. 🙂 means much to me.


        2. I just call it as I see it…and you Vera, always speak so clearly and beautifully.


        3. Thanks again, Bill. Appreciate investment of your time in reading my work.


        4. It’s what I look forward to! Keep it coming!


        5. Okay, I will take that as motivation to keep torturing my brain.


        6. I’m grateful… but I suspect Vera…that your creativity is infinite, and irrepressible. Just keep writing… please. 😊


  2. And…know that your work is something special…and separate.


  3. Vera. How do you keep coming out with poems that are so beautiful? What’s your secret…come on tell me. 👈👈:-):-)


    1. Haha, Sundaram, the only secret is hard work and the price is dead brain cells. It takes me a long time actually. But I am thrilled you think they are beautiful. Thank you! 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      1. They indeed are. And I guess your brain cells just disintegrate after the hard work and reform into a more powerful faculty. Good work my friend…:-):-)


        1. If only, Sundaram… hey, I think there is a poem in your words: disintegrated brain cells reforming. 🙂 Thanks again, my friend.

          Liked by 1 person

        2. Hahaa yes I see it too… such a poet you are Vera… Take care


        3. And you too, Sundaram, look forward to your next poem.

          Liked by 1 person

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