February curls
its silvery wind
into the night (an elusive accompanist
in conscious hours) refracting
sunlight as if there were another place
unlayered with tawny sorrow where You rest love in my lap -
yet Longing, no longer bright like the Sunflower Door in Prague
cast pewter silhouettes displacing us
into winter’s undercarriage as if there were another place
other than Poetry
where Love could have thrived
Elizabeth S. Gunn
Elizabeth S. Gunn serves as the Dean of the School of Arts, Sciences, and Business at Nevada State University. She writes poetry and fiction in Henderson, Nevada, where she and her wife live with their three rescue pups in the endless Mojave Desert. Her website is http://www.elizabethsgunn.com/ and she's on X at @_DeanGunn.
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