• Jan Avellana

midnight poems

"Do the poems still come at midnight?" she asks.

I nod—"Sometimes," I say.


the day is done,

the dishes, washed.

i wander around the house turning off lights.

"is there anything left?" i wonder.

and then the midnight poems, they meet me in the fading light—

and I am startled that they come.

the river i thought had dried up, flows still.

-j. avellana


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