The Other Night
The other night you worked
me slowly, as if worked
by pulleys. You came not before
your time, poured your wine
only after the fiddle’s bow
collapsed over backs of flowers,
ripping Rothko-red from peplum
the other night.
…………………………………The other night, you
came early &
……………………….slept late &
……………………………………………came early again.
I prayed
for summer.
I prayed
for the broken windows of
“my god…! my god…! my god…!”
I prayed
and the rain came
and the windows were made
into stained glass
in a little church as golden as
the other night.
© Linette Allen
Linette Marie Allen is an emerging poet. Earning an MFA in creative writing at the University of Baltimore, she enjoys translating her work into the Romance languages. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Notre Dame Review, Free State Review, The Tishman Review, and other journals. Her podcast for writers, Ripen the Page, is featured on iTunes.
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