Sid Gold




The Knack

 

 

It has been so long

since I have slept with another

all through the night, I’ve lost

the knack of it, & even

your singular body, if truth

be told, crowds me as in a barracks.

 

Suddenly, this bed is a box

too narrow to hold us all: you, 

me, & at least a third or a fourth,

silent, shade-like presences,

invisible as dreams, who slip

between us, curling into the curves

of our bodies like house pets

no longer frightened by our scowls

as we doze like big cats after a hunt.

 

When you awaken, you may not

find me here beside you, but I can

promise I will be nearby, occupying

a discreet middle distance on the couch,

& our unbidden guests, predators

who roam only under the cover of dark,

will have scattered in the light.

 



A native New Yorker, Sid Gold is a two-time recipient of a Maryland State Arts Council Individual Artist Award for Poetry. Poems of his have appeared recently in Poet Lore, Loch Raven Review, and Free State Review. His third book is Good With Oranges, from Broadkill River Press. He lives in Hyattsville, Maryland.









                                    

 

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