By Carolyn Oliver
Something has changed. Rolling over,
a bear disturbs the scurf and loam beneath
its bulk; the particles drift
and sink again. So, silences settle
against doorways, linger
in the bedroom, the kitchen, the den.
Indrawn breath—then a gust of knives tearing
past forks, while, scraped and hungry,
impatient winter closes in
between our mouthfuls.
A graduate of The Ohio State University and Boston University, Carolyn Oliver lives in Massachusetts with her family. Her work has appeared in or is forthcoming from Midway Journal, matchbook, Pulp Literature, and Constellations, among others. Her website is carolynoliver.net.