postedpoems
for the reader who will not stay
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For the Reader Who Will Not Stay
(after a list of three truths)
I have pared the bread
to a single crumb,
so it will not weary your jaw.
I have drained the wine
to a thimble‑swallow,
so it will not cloud your head.
I have locked the third door
and pocketed the key,
for I know how you hate to find
yourself in a room you did not expect.
You prefer the garden gate:
open, low‑hinged,
a path you can stroll
in your lunch hour.
You prefer roses already cut,
vase‑ready, no thorns
to coax your blood.
Still— in the rafters of the stanza,
I hang small bells, and in the mortar
between these plain bricks
I press a coin, face down.
It will tarnish there, waiting
for the one pair of eyes
who sees that the wall is hollow.
.
