Monday, 6 December 2010
Matt Galletta
Your name
Your name lives on my tongue.
Not in conversation,
not consciously,
but in the million
mindless moments
of a day,
it comes out.
Pouring coffee,
parking the car,
through all the countless
tiny tasks
that add up
to a life,
it's there:
a steady rhythm,
a gentle hum,
a one-word prayer
I keep repeating
under each breath.
Lately
It's like that night
when we drove home
from Boston
through all that fog.
No street lights
in sight,
we crawled with caution,
windshield wipers
thunking
at the moisture
beading up on the glass.
Barely able to see
the lane markings,
we couldn't tell
if there was a shoulder
to pull over onto.
Checking the rearview,
squinting into the gray
in front of us,
checking the rearview again,
we wondered when,
if ever,
things were going to clear up.
Matt Galletta lives with his wife, daughter, and cats in Troy, NY. His work has appeared in MediaVirus Magazine, PigeonBike, Red Fez, and elsewhere. Find out more at Matt Galletta.
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5 comments:
Thanks, Matt- enjoyed. Sadness is like shadows; we all get them. I found your poems touching.
PG
Thanks, PG.
--Matt
This is as suggestive as it is skillful.
Wonderful poems!
Thank you again for the kind words.
--Matt
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