I listen to rain from an open window and feel the coolness of early fall. You are sitting on a couch opposite me. The space between us is memory– children playing on floors, tears, animals, decisions, fear, age. It has grown dense with time together, so that now when I hold out a hand, it feels heavy with the weight that is all I want to hold.
About the Author
William Allegrezza edits the press Moria Books, Moss Trill, and teaches at Indiana University Northwest. He has published many poetry books, poetry reviews, articles, translations, short stories, and poems. He founded and curated series A, a reading series in Chicago, from 2006-2010. More information about him can be found at https://www.allegrezza.info.
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