- Nocturne
At night, the windows in our housebecome mirrors, as if to say
what happens here will keep on happening.
I press my face to the glassand seeblack trees, black sky, the moon like a pocket
turned inside out.
Below, I heara howl, which means our mother is dreamingwith her eyes open
again. I don't go downstairs after dark
but sometimesI talk to God from my bedroom.
His voice soundslike pink and blue buds opening inside of me,like singing bruises. [End Page 145]
Austen Leah Rosenfeld received an MFA from Columbia University. Her poems have appeared in Salmagundi, Zyzzyva, AGNI, Indiana Review, Narrative, the Carolina Quarterly, and elsewhere.