not in this world
for Mark
with a line from Yannis Ritsos
Green lamppost. Horse. And you, still dreaming.
Or perhaps, it is me in the velvet erase, sleeping
as the ylang ylang exhales in the night, circles
above my head like a misplaced halo. The light
flickers from its perch on the lamppost—
a firefly grown marvelous to mimic a flame.
The horse quivers and snorts, nickers your name
but still you dream, not in this world but your own.
And Darling, I want to know what it’s like
on your side of Rumi’s curtain—if the syntax of death
is comprehensible or strange. I am broken open,
but I dance—knowing you are the brook, the oak, the star.
© Ann Weil
Ann Weil is the author of Lifecycle of a Beautiful Woman (Yellow Arrow Publishing, 2023) and Blue Dog Road Trip (Gnashing Teeth Publishing, forthcoming October 2024). Her poetry appears in Pedestal Magazine, DMQ Review, 3Elements Review, SWWIM, The Shore, and elsewhere. She lives in Ann Arbor and Key West with her husband and soul-dog. Read more of her work at www.annweilpoetry.com.
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