Solitary Confinement

Written by: Bernadette Langer

I'm concerned now 
with only solitary things

the stinging course 
of an unwiped tear
and a small blonde curl
wrapped in plastic

 
never lengthening


a fleeting smile
forced from cheek's hollow
its laughter drowned in a meandering brook 
that doesn't babble

 
just drifts aimlessly

 
to where a leafless tree seems
to haplessly scrape its bank
in unwelcome companionship

 
I find I prefer the dead blue of skies


to the changeling grey 
where too many shadows wait 
for aching recognition

and I know I'll never sleep again at night
because I can't censure with my eyes closed

 
nor control my emotion's line of sight...