The Sand Hill Review               http://www.stanford.edu/~sandhill              2006

Unblinking

If there is a hell, it is this

dark. Outside, the lone geranium bleeds

black into shadow. 

I turn on the TV, find the weather.  It's 92

in the Twin Cities, 58 here.  Yellow

degrees pulse

against radiant blue. Somewhere a faucet

drips, stops, then another hard

drop.  The cats emerge,

motors idling.  The calico crawls into the crook

of my arm, burrows deep.  The other sits,

bronze eyes 

unblinking.  The bare floors are cold.  The corners

of my eyes still crusted.  I do not

want to see

this day, this wanting.

Beverly Acuff Momoi