Marion Strobel

From “That Year”

PART the curtains gently—

Let them fall

In soft finalities of color

After you.

Let there be no certainty of doors

Between us:

Part the curtains gently.

I hold out my hands

And my life goes from me;

I draw my thought

Through a profusion of vanities

And am not comforted:

I am a sleep-walker

Within this sunlit room.

You have done as I have bidden you,

And the act is heavy

With kindness.

There is no certainty of doors

Between us:

I grope for a beginning,

Or an end.