Today's poem is by Sarah Vap


The earliest light we know

is out there on the hill this evening, calling to us. Starlight

is an ancient lilac, a talent for the fragile certainty:

there is a speck
of memory. Then it is quiet.

It's sacrilege to imagine

how someone should or should not
have loved you, umpteenth time.

Copyright © 2009 Sarah Vap All rights reserved
from Faulkner's Rosary
Saturnalia Books
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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