Poem for the End of the World
At the end, I expected
to find you dazzling and bright
before me, brushing your teeth
at the bathroom sink,
or carrying an armload
of groceries for one last
special breakfast, your desire
for forgiveness between us.
Instead, I got up, put on
a pot of coffee and listened
to the pops and creaks
of an empty house
and I too am that skeleton,
split, divided, stripped
of all but the essentials.
I sat on a box,
the only furniture left
from our former life here,
inhaled deeply
and drank, waited.
Brandi L. Perry holds an M.F.A. in Creative Writing from the University of South Carolina. Her first collection of poetry, Sometimes I Cut Paper Dolls Instead of Myself, is forthcoming from Unbound Content.
