Marc Swan, October 2013

After work


I still work.

            After work

I sit in the garden

under the arbor.

It’s late spring

almost May,

early flowers bloom

purple, yellow,

white. As the light

streams through

barren vines,

I sip a glass

of vin rosé


toward the sun

beaming down

from the west, eyes

closed, heat full

on my face,

orange brilliant

behind my lids.

            On this day

I envision

a later life friend—

Giuseppe, Renaldo,

Francesca or Mirabella

coming to join me

dominoes in hand.



Marc Swan is a vocational rehabilitation counselor living on Munjoy Hill in Portland Maine, poems coming out this year inSpillway, Common Ground Review, Borderlands: The Texas Review, and The Echo Room, among others.



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