Wednesday, March 25, 2015


artwork: ralph murre

by Susan Tepper

The veil has creased the morning
into aftershocks— an unmade bed
will stay unmade, wet towels
drape an uncertain future—
about this place, did you see

the garden turn crumbling gray
during the winter storms

It was a matter of privacy.

You rushed to set the stones
back where nature had upended
But, still—

~ previously published in The Green Door