Bedtime Poem: I Love This!


Jane Urquhart

From: The Little Flowers of Madame de Montespan, The Porcupine’s Quill, Inc., 1995. pp.10-11

The sun decides to
enter from the garden

moving on the carpet
he touches all your furniture
crawls under your closet door
investigates your wardrobe

moves his arm across
your memories
substituting light
heat and silence

he erases last year’s
conversations with the stars
changes the contents of your mirrors
invents an alternative
palette for your crystal

scrapes his nails across brocade
revealing tangled threads
like contours on a map

he polished your tables
his brilliance clings to cutlery
till spoons become large
bright incisions
all across the grain

a weight of gold and heat
he stops      burning
at the flesh of your neck

you are the only shadow in the room.

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