dresserI had another post I was working on for today, but between Christmas preparations, hours of thesis writing, and mental exhaustion from a very stressful semester, I wasn’t able to get it finished in time. You’ll probably get to see it for my next post in a couple of weeks. Instead, I have some original poetry to share with you that I wrote for a poetry seminar a few months ago. Enjoy.

My Bedroom Dresser

The four overstuffed drawers squeak in protest

every time I shove one shut without bothering

to fold the floral mini-dress I wore when he was

home on leave last time. Blue dust shrouds

the still-full picture frames and the paint-chipped

Captain Picard perched on Malory’s Mort d’Arthur.

The single surface of the dresser not sick with dust

is the red Codeine bottle, still full from last week’s

visit to General Hospital’s emergency room.

If the dresser had been within arm’s reach last night

that big plastic red bottle might now be empty.



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