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Morning

After Anne Sexton


Poetry, Christ Keivom


Right now, consider this morning.

The curtains open like the long roll of clouds in the valley.

Where the grass is dense as oil and silken,

The streams crystalline, the clouds growing

Bluer by the second. Where everything is

Carpeted in a shade of green. The trees lap

Up sunlight like milk, the wind brings

The scent of apples, freshly peeled. And

Right now, the image of your finger is the rain

Drawing vertical words on the window screen.

I want to sit across from you at the kitchen

Table and sift through the grocery list.

I’ve had mornings like this before, though alone.

With no one gift this joy in all; whose sharing

I’ve heard, is a synonym for love.

 

Christ Keivom (he/him), is currently pursuing his master's in English Literature from Delhi University. His work has previously appeared in Novus Literary Arts Journal, Mulberry Literary, Monograph Mag, Write now lit, The Chakkar, Farside Review, Spotlong Review, Agapanthus Collective, Native Skin and Blue Marble Review to name a few.


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