Afternoon
for C. H.
I knew the afternoon was coming to a close—
and it’s all right that you weren’t there with me—
as I made out a star from my window.
But that was fine. There is no afternoon . . .
Brick, a literary journal
Brick
PO Box 609, Stn P
Toronto, ON M5S 2Y4
Canada
Each poet will write / their own hell. In mine, like yours, / I’ll be condemned to beauty. — Yusuf Saadi