by Abby Rosenthal
Days are long now in the city
and the street each evening cordial.
Under an orange awning
we buy mangoes and tomatoes,
browsing hand in hand as usual—
yet we can’t help noticing how dusk
comes a little earlier
than the night before.
The key turns in its lock:
we’re home, you say.
Your chair leans wisely on its rockers,
our bookshelves sag with books,
an old dog ambles up
from my favorite rug.
Her muzzle’s so white
for a moment I just can’t place her.
Abby Rosenthal’s poems and stories have appeared or are
forthcoming in literary journals such as Alaska Quarterly,
Carolina Quarterly, Chicago Review, Kansas Quarterly,
Revolver, Southern Poetry Review, and Weber Journal. She
is also the author of Ardor’s Hut, a book of poetry. Rosenthal
was born in Brooklyn, raised in Queens and on Long Island,
and has lived in California, Oklahoma, Washington D.C., and
Wyoming. She and her husband, poet Thomas Johnson,
currently reside in Memphis, Tennessee.
On “Whatever Happened?”:
It’s easy enough, when we have the presumption of a normal
human life span at our disposal, to forget how quickly time slips
away. But there are also constant reminders . . . in the turn of
seasons certainly and, for those of us who love animals, in the
foreshortened life spans of our animal companions.
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Apple Valley Review:
A Journal of Contemporary
Volume 9, Number 1
Copyright © 2014
by Leah Browning, Editor.
All future rights to material
published in the Apple
Valley Review are retained
by the individual authors