TOMORROW, Mark Strand

Your best friend is gone,

your other friend, too.

Now the dream that used to turn in your sleep

sails into the year's coldest night.

Your best friend is gone,

your other friend, too.
Now the dream that used to turn in your sleep,
like a diamond, sails into the year's coldest night.

What did you say?
Or was it something you did?
It makes no difference -- the house of breath collapsing
around your voice, your voice burning, are nothing to worry about.
Tomorrow your friends will come back;
your moist open mouth will bloom in the glass of storefronts.
Yes. Yes. Tomorrow they will come back and you
will invent an ending that comes out right.

Foto G. Panciroli/ Grafica A. Pancirolli