I came to be alone in your house
but forgot the key. I searched
the garden, the weeds
forcing their way up through the same cracks
but bigger, more happy, maybe.
It’s like the whole lot died with you:
squirrels quiet, water wheel stopped,
cherry trees leaning a little
farther into their own shade.
©
Calvin Olsen’s poetry and translations have most recently appeared in Poet Lore, The National Poetry Review, AGNI, Asymptote, and LIT, among others. He lives in North Carolina, USA where he is a doctoral student and the poetry editor for The Carolina Quarterly. www.calvin-olsen.com
Twitter: @cal_olsen
Fine capture, Calvin. Sometimes the most overpowering presence is that which is absent. You nailed the concept beautifully here. Well done. I’m please to share the Issue with such fine writers.
Thanks, Ron. It’s a great issue for sure–glad to (virtually) know you.
Well written my friend