Night heart You’re late. I glum in the dim. Home on my own. Night-rain on the roof. You’re later. I fume and feed my sulk’s fire with little broken sticks of your thoughtlessness. Hours go on and my unanswered texts get less brusque, more hysteric. I get littler in this big bed. My sulk goes out and all I’ve got is the drip and … Continue reading Two Poems by Ramona Herdman