Woman in the Dark

 by Phyllis Capello

I dream the waters beneath the earth

rise up, that the rooms are flooded.

Waves lap against the dresser legs,

shoes swirl around in the current.

A river splashes down the stairs

to the entryway,

where we come and go

from our various days.

But what stirs me is not the water’s sound,

it is these tears that wet my hands

and sink my heart that wake me:

half-dead of thirst, half-drowned.