Lea Marshall

This is a week of garlic, a week
of angled sun, of sapphire.

A gibbous week, a week of headaches,
of late tomatoes. A week of horror,

a week of bells. This is an unseeing
week, a week of drums, and rice.

This is a week of overwhelming
evidence, a week of denial, of cats

and bullets. This week fills your
mouth. This week empties

your hands. This week leaves
a bruise. The leaves this week

are turning, ripped, or gone. Take
this week and sharpen it. Next
week you will need it.