Poetry

Fall 2008

 

 

Anna Soo-Hoo

Asking About Winter When It Is Spring

Winter was a room.
The white walls were either walls
or snow.
Warm, we stayed there a bit.

Afterwards, after having gone home,
taking off my coat,
I did not know where I was,
the streetlight kept the walls so bright.

 

Though I've Not Said

Ten-thirty pm, stepped off the bus,
walked past a tree,
and had you walked past
this tree bark that was gleaming, gleaming,
would I have seen also
how the sky was so dark
that it could not stop darkening?
Though I have not even said the word you before.

 

 

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