“Then This, From the Lost Sister”

Click here to listen to Meghan O’Rourke read this poem. When you left, a world Came. Rain,

A morning, a weather
That wouldn’t end.

The windows closed like stitches.
Fingernails grew; nothing to pick at.

The tent of our mother’s body went
Wet around me and clung.

The wind tore through me.
I breathed with two split lungs.

When you left
I stayed, I shook!

Like an instrument about
To be played by the long,

Fingers of the sun