top of page

Murray Silverstein

Save Us, Said the Sky

Dream: From across a room, a woman motions me 

with a look, Can we have a word? and disappears. 


Next morning, reading Treatise on Poetry, used copy, 

someone’s underlined, I want not poetry but a new diction 


because only it might allow...a new tenderness. 

Later, out for a walk, You’re all going to die, 


chirped the birds, and you’re the only ones who know! 

And so are required to write, said the trees, 


lines that open back to life. To save us, said the sky, 

from this night, your night, that’s not our night. 

Jim Zola 675DC4F9-2C15-4B6C-B6DA-57E28D416349.jpeg
bottom of page