Katherine Soniat Hopper's Wife

kept to the house,
painting canvases of balled-up babies,

mercurial bric-a-bracs, and the miniature
of her birthday brooch beside a glass pitcher of roses.

The softer grays she saved for Arthur
her long-departed cat.

Then there was the night with a full moon
and rain all at once. Glossy pines,

the lit drops falling.
She edged to her side of their bed,

and lay there a long time watching,
the window to herself.

A soldered luminescence,
light turned down to skullglow in the mist.


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