18 June 2018

3025

3025

She'd left small notes about the rooms
That have become each an estate
With wards and enclosures parted only
By the inching sun
As portioned by a lonesome cat;
Memoranda with regard
To the absence of necessity,
Be mindful, writ so small
It recalls itself.
Her signs do tend to be read
As an echo instead of a voice.