Reykjavik Sunset
By Barbara F. Lefcowitz
A sun that never rose,
that huddled throughout the brief day
under flannel skies,
cannot sink below the seamless horizon.
At 4 in the afternoon the flannel thins
to a black bridal veil
that snow the size of roses
lifts to light up the long hours
until tomorrow’s noon sunrise,
if indeed clouds let the sun
break through at all.
——
Barbara F. Lefcowitz has published nine books of poetry as well as fiction, essays, and poems in over 500 journals. She has won fellowships and prizes from the National Endowment for the Arts, the Rockefeller Foundation, and the Maryland Arts Council, among others.
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