This Morning by Martha Christina

I wake in a room
encased in ice;
not the etched
swirls and ferns
of my childhood
bedroom, but a
translucent sheet
on each window.

Sun slants a little
further south;
the melt: almost
instantaneous.

That quickly, too,
you were gone.



Martha Christina is a frequent contributor to Brevities. Longer work appears in Innisfree Poetry Journal, Naugatuck River Review, earlier postings of Red Eft Review, and most recently in the anthology Ice Cream Poems from World Enough Writers. She has published two collections: Staying Found (Fleur-de-lis Press) and Against Detachment (Pecan Grove Press).