Susan Comninos’s poem is a wife’s tender, quiet, and deeply felt tribute to a husband.
—
Lullaby
for a husband
Taking the Eros
out of it, I admire
your wool shirt, your wallet
which is worn and lithe.
Green like any tea life
likes to be. Black
with its color. Beneath
you, I think of afghans,
a winter of blankets: cold
compress that the
heat’s left. This room
has cracked
around the windows, or through
the walls —
if there were ever.
Your hand is like
the craters of the earth.
I fall into it.
***
Previously appeared in Literary Mama.
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