Night went by like nothing

Lee Potts

As it descended that night it seemed

more and more to be made of silver,

and flat. Empty branches divided


the sky into shards and edges and

the moon might have been the god

of broken glass. But our eyes were full


of fire we made. Its embers rose

like the crumbs of us that tend to

eddy unseen behind our souls. Then,


later, it was as dark as that room

you're never going into even

if you unlatched the door. A dark that


took all our words before they even

reached our throats. And we slept, quiet

and rough as salt at the bottom of a bowl.

About the Author

Lee Potts is the author of the chapbook And Drought Will Follow (Frosted Fire Press) and poetry editor at Barren Magazine. His work has appeared in Rust + Moth, Whale Road Review, UCity Review, Parentheses Journal, Firmament, Moist Poetry Journal, and elsewhere. He lives just outside of Philadelphia with his wife and the last kid still at home. You can find him on Twitter @LeePottsPoet.