“Absent Wind” by Morgan O’ Connor


 

And bleak

April arrived,

a sad letter

foretelling

a sad cold

death.

 

Salmon fought

upstream

to the spear

then plate

bubble, foam, egg

never truer,

never less

full of nothing.

 

Belief comes

like a smile

in the long night

months without

light, air, moon,

over your body

your heart,

 

a missed kiss-

the wind.