And then there was a long wait, a longer trepidation

without any nourishment. And then they came with

bitter herbs we could only use as umbrellas.

My power went out long before the morning came;

newspaper covers the walls where my easel use

to be. And I can’t stop staring into thresholds

to see another side of you when you ran under a

different name then changed it back quickly

before anyone could notice how it rhymed

with everything.