Wish You Were by Colette Bryce | Poem No. 23 (NPM2017)


Wish You Were

by Colette Bryce


Here, an aftertaste of traffic taints

the city’s breath, as mornings

yawn and bare this street

like teeth. Here, airplanes leaving

Heathrow scare this house

to trembling; these rooms protect

their space with outstretched walls,

and wait. And evenings fall

like discs in a jukebox, playing

a song called Here, night after night.

Wish you were. Your postcards

land in my hall like meteorites.

 

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