Sandra Storey ____________________________
Poet
Poems

 

 Apartment Morning   

 

The bright building hums:  
whine of kettle under foot,  
roar of shower in the wall.   

Above, a door flaps, closes.  
Footsteps fall on the landing  
rattle down the stairs.     

Where I sit in the kitchen  
blinded by a shaft of sun, 
I don’t need to see     

to recognize the neighbors,  
or touch 
to feel the texture of the hour.  

 


Where the view is unobstructed   


the sun setting looks just like 

the sun rising 
split in two on the curved horizon  

balanced on the edge 
of the same half-lit, hopeful worlds  
the yin and yang once were tears  

the dots in each, the pairs of eyes that cried them 
now light and dark are twirling cheek to cheek  
the sun setting is the sun rising
far away, just out of sight

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