What I want it to be.
Poetry by Sam Corbo
It is the day after the storm,
a broken tree is outside
our window. It has cracked,
its insides struck black.
It is torn and fallen.
* * *
I look for you in the kitchen’s nook
but see only faint gray peek through
the clouds and curtains and onto the round table.
Messy brown halos become its ornaments.
Where did you take your coffee? To the wet roof?
Are you in your robe
with our neighbors by the tree
to comment on the carnage washed in.
* * *
In the eggshell hallway
between the kitchen and bathroom
I hear the shower.
Steam rises from cracks in the door
and the smell of chicory becomes overwhelming.
Sam Corbo is a recent graduate of Muhlenberg College. He was published in his college publications Popped and Muses. More writing of his can be found at slugtrailslime.blogspot.com. He is currently in-between schooling (a.k.a. jobbing). Some people would say his face is quite symmetrical.
