Poetry

When the day closes,
my grief’s a laundromat
done tumbling away, or
a dry cleaner, its pressed
shirts hanging like effigies,
or flags of no and every
nation under faux stars,
neon constellations. I
sweep the evening,
hoping for a kind
of incandescence,
yet what the day
takes is light
and light.
More Poems by Joseph O. Legaspi