When I Do
Sometimes, when I want to think about you but I don’t
I imagine the stars in the sky above you
spreading out like an unencumbered wing
of tiny lights, bri`ght and far-flung with promise
unlike the flat, dark land I imagine you imagine yourself
to be in, I loathe how you insist
on holding this pretend darkness so close to your heart.
Sometimes, when I want to talk to you but I don’t
I imagine the sounds of the day around you:
the soft lowing of contented cattle,
the occasional jangly clang of a dented iron bell
the startled squawk of snow geese
as they’re disturbed in the field.
I hold these sounds to my heart
imagine we could, we have had
conversations this meaningful and deep.
.
Holly Day’s writing has recently appeared in Analog SF, Cardinal Sins, and New Plains Review, and her published books include Music Theory for Dummies, and Music Composition for Dummies. She currently teaches classes at The Loft Literary Center in Minnesota, Hugo House in Washington, and The Muse Writers Center in Virginia.
Stone Poetry Quarterly 