Requiem by Frances LeMoine

Requiem

Across the midnight warehouse of their room —
bare feet, bare floors, boards creak
and crack the fleshy hush.

It is all wrong.

Windows sealed.
No hint of the cool night air
that bathes stars and stirs ghosts.
Dust, the residue, endures.

Her ear is to the door.
The bolt lolls in her pocket.

She waits.

(first appeared in VISIONS)

Frances LeMoine is a writer of poetry and shortfiction. She has had her work published in over eighty journals. LeMoine shared inkspace with another poet in the chapbook "Bourbon Skin," published by Lummox Press in 1999. A book of her poems is being published by Asterius Press in 2002. She lives in New Hampshire.
E-mail: frances_lemoine@yahoo.com

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