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ISSN 1409-6900 | UDK 82+7     Blesok no. 45 | volume VIII | November-December, 2005



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                     Peer-reviewed journal
Blesok no. 45November-December, 2005
Poetry

This Is It, Your

/6
p. 1
Magdalena Horvat

This Is It, Your
Drift
Being Borned
Fear of Sugar
We'll Be Meeting
A Poppy by the Rails

_______________________________________________________________________

This Is It, Your

poem without any aim or pretension
to be another source of your tension—
a post-apocalyptic poem that no one
will read anyway;

found it after you'd shut the door, after
the fray. Inside my palm, while I
held onto the handle in vain.

It had hidden, afraid, in the space
between my fingers:

it took me great pains to tease it out.

             But I know it's yours.

You must've left it some day at my place,
some day when you held my hand — and
now I thought, maybe I'd better
give it back.

Still, you might've forgotten what it's like
and you'll think it's only an excuse
to send you a letter—

but it's not a letter, see?   This is your
    poem:
left behind, nearly dead,
a sort of a post-mortem in a postscript,
a sort of a futile something unsaid.






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