Tonight by Lisa Zaran
I am no more or less deprived,
nor eager, nor ashamed.
I am no more in love or less
than I was yesterday
or this morning. Perhaps
tomorrow will bring
about some level of beauty
I’ve yet to know.
Perhaps tonight is only
a prelude into tomorrow
and what it has to bring.
Or maybe it is just an intermittent
balm to soothe yesterday.
I don’t know. The moon is high,
sallow like a captured whale’s curved
fin. The air is sweet with renewal.
My husband is asleep.
My lover is far away doing god knows
what. I am a prisoner inside
my own mind. The sky promises nothing.
No rain in sight. No sun until tomorrow.
The stars blink on and off like ancient
Christmas lights. I exercise my heart
by licking old wounds.
When I pray, God turns one trillion
ears to listen.
My hopes and dreams are no more or less
a novelty to Him than say
your hopes and dreams.
We’re all prisoners of life.
Lisa Zaran is an American poet, essayist, occasional interviewer and the author of six collections. Her first book, the sometimes girl, was recently the focus of a year long translation course in Germany. She is the founder and editor of Contemporary American Voices, an online journal of poetry, which has now been approved to be used as the subject of study for a translation course in Germany.
