artwork: ralph murre
What
Each Day Hides
by
Wilda Morris
Beginning with a line from Li-Young Lee
I
think how day hides the star,
the
mouse crawling back into its hole,
the
burglar creeping through a window,
and
the women in red who ply their trade
on
Rush Street
how
light deletes
the
silver streak on which you longed
to
walk across a moonlit lake
and
the stillness in which I hear
your
long-gone voice
whispering
in
the night
~ first published in Rockford Review
