I FELL ASLEEP IN SEPTEMBER
BESIDE MYSELF IN THE GARDEN
The evening air like a gloved finger
dragging up my arm,
the companionable dogs of the neighborhood
high at their wishing,
the small birds stepping like dames
through the green aisles,
and the strawberry plants blushing
on the garden floor—
I’ve never known another place
as animal for longing. In the garden,
best to give it up again—permission
for a little amnesia.
ONE FOOT IN THE DOOR
A real unraveling is at work in the garden.
Lilacs bust open like tiny pink bombs.
Long green leaves drag like tongues
on the ground and bumble bees slivering
thin jump from flower to white flower.
I’m drunk in the sunshine on purpose.
My boyfriend reads a book (very good
of him). Am I really changing?
He says he doesn’t know—this the upside
of alcohol. I find I can’t wait
to spend another 5 weeks at least
figuring out our cumulative nothings.
Let me stay here—in the fall
I’ll start to worry again.
Sonia Feldman is a poet and writer living in Cleveland, Ohio. She runs Sonia’s Poem of the Week, an email newsletter that sends one good poem every Friday. Q&As with contemporary poets sometimes, sparkling commentary on why a poem is worth reading always. Find her on Instagram and Twitter.
The visual poem “I Fell Asleep in September” was created using a sticker sheet designed by artist Sebit Min.