NaPoWriMo #26

Only four days left! This was the hardest of all the NaPo poems (so far) to write, and on days like this I'm thankful April's nearly over. Other days, I wish I was so disciplined to write like this during the rest of the year.

Lonely

At eleven p.m.
she turns off her porch light
and lingers

in the dark of her window,
watching purple rain fall
in the glow of her lamp.

I probably have your address
somewhere on a scrap of paper
but I don't want to find it.

It is a quiet dusk
and she can only share it
with the walls.

copyright Maya Ganesan, 2009