A POEM A DAY 298

My heart turned blue on a Tuesday at three,

while the clock lost a minute and stared back at me.

The kettle kept singing though no one made tea,

and the walls leaned inward suspiciously.

I searched in the cupboard, under the bed,

between all the things we should never have said.

I asked the old mirror; it tilted its head—

then showed me a stranger who looked mostly dead.

The moon wore one shoe, and the sky came unglued,

the stars looked away like they already knew.

I laughed at the rain till the rain laughed too—

and somewhere between you leaving

and me missing you,

I finally discovered

why my heart turned blue.

Simona A. Brinson

Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash