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Details: Poems by Eric Schwerer Published by Seven Kitchens Press, May 1, 2016 Number 13 in the Keystone Chapbook Series, selected by Deirdre O’Connor Cover photo by Jacob Koestler  |
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| Listen Here every evening a woman strides into her backyard calling her rabbit which raises an ear when she sings: Peppermint’s eyes’re red, His fur’s so white, Oh where’s Peppermint gone tonight? When she sees him she relaxes and lingers in twilight as fireflies make brief green slashes and blacktop ticks with the heat it’s digested all day. Then in her grass while the light collapses I watch her daydream a portion of the dusk away. I mean I imagine she daydreams as through my screen I watch her stride about shoeless, her rabbit nibbling the lawn going grey. In a clean blouse, fresh from a shower, night coming on, she might think of marriage. The lace curtains in the windows of her house are drawn. In my own still air and losing light I stare at her, her curtains, her rabbit’s white hair. Downstairs at the sink in my darkening kitchen a glass of iced water is crying a ring— Has he hopped the gate? Left me again? Peppermint, please— she continues to sing, though it has not wandered and would not ever leave. |
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