Saturday, November 8, 2014


In November
by Lisel Mueller
Outside the house the wind is howling
and the trees are creaking horribly.

This is an old story
with its old beginning,
as I lay me down to sleep.

But when I wake up, sunlight
has taken over the room.

You have already made the coffee
and the radio brings us music
from a confident age. In the paper
bad news is set in distant places.

Whatever was bound to happen
in my story did not happen.

But I know there are rules that cannot be broken.
Perhaps a name was changed.

A small mistake. Perhaps
a woman I do not know
is facing the day with the heavy heart
that, by all rights, should have been mine.


Velma Bolyard said...

good poems, both of them.

Ms. said...

Velma dear--it's only ONE poem by Lisle Mueller just broken up to suit my visual thoughts (I'm sure the poet would hate it but I TOOK poetic license :-)

Mo Crow said...

Hi Michelle, love that blue blue sky!