Laure-Anne Bosselaar: Then, you stop

Then, you stop weeping. Lift your face from your hands. 
            Not because you’re done or because it helped,       
        but because there’s a faint knock at the window. 
            
You look up. It’s a branch. It taps & waves & distracts        
            your sorrow. You wipe your face 
                        hard with both hands. 
 
This is not a sign. You’re ruefully aware of that, & don’t    
            believe in signs. They announced a storm, 
                        it nears, that’s all. 
                        
Yet the sky is so still — so lit. Again, those knocks
            at the window. It’s not him. 
                        Of course it’s not him.

‘Then, you stop’ from These Many Rooms (c) 2019 by Laure-Anne Bosselaar. Appears with permission of Four Way Books. All rights reserved.