To E (even now)
Even now,
I don’t have enough courage.
That night you said, Pretend. Half of the room
white as the moon. Music flooded empty corners.
We kept spinning until
we were in the garden. Few flowers hung
to October, behind us the nervous laughter,
the clinking refills of punch. Laced
fingers, tangles of hair. You whispered,
Pretend.
– R
Rachel Rodgers is a poet, or a fool, from Fayetteville, WV. She received her MFA in Poetry from West Virginia Wesleyan College, and her work can be found online at Sad Girls Literary Club and Analogies & Allegories Magazine Issue 6. When she isn’t writing, she takes care of 6 ferrets, 2 birds, and a one-eyed dog.
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