Navigation Menu+

Marbles – by Edmund Miller

Posted on Jul 12, 2017 by in August 2017 | 1 comment

For Brig from high school

I no longer remember
the Gregorian chant with incense
in altar-boy days
hoofbeats racing through bread-and- cheese hollows
butterflies in the attic
silently singing to escape
the tea ceremony on the beach
with white umbrellas.
I don’t know

How many basketball games there were
Or whether you ever cried.
I don’t know when you gave up football
if you had to marry
what you sold your soul for.
I don’t even know
whether it was glass or
when you’re coming home.
Or what you’re coming home for.

1 Comment

  1. This poem was previously published in The Screwdriver’s Apprentice, Blue Light 2017