Now when I weep, chimes
come out instead of tears,
pinging in the drained
pool where we meet tonight.
I tell you what I’ve always
wanted to tell you, and you
make no movement.
The sounds crescendo
into melodies like clear
rain against a window as I
realize it’s not you I’m
here with but your light.
©
's poems have appeared recently or are forthcoming in publications such as 32 Poems, New Orleans Review, Parnassus, Ploughshares, The Threepenny Review, and Witness. He grew up in Los Angeles and works in book production in New York City.
We’ve published seven more poems by Homolka: “sometimes song,” “Hooky,” “Vertigo,” “resignation,” “golden gate park,” “Fairground II,” and “Orchard Street.”
