Dawning
They stir, begin to gather up their clothes.
Morning leaks in where curtains fail to meet.
He leaves, releasing monsters as he goes.
Funny how, soon as feeble daylight shows,
the bold, metallic night admits defeat.
They stir, begin to gather up their clothes.
Unwelcome sounds and smells of day impose
themselves; flashes of last night can't compete.
He leaves, releasing monsters as he goes.
Nothing was quite the way she had supposed
it would be. She takes cover in the sheet.
He stirs, begins to gather up his clothes.
A quick kiss, and her recognition grows:
she should regard the matter as complete.
He leaves, releasing monsters as he goes.
As of this moment, the sum of what she knows
is the soft click of the door as he retreats.
She stirs, begins to gather up her clothes.
He leaves, releasing monsters as he goes.
Mary Ford Neal is a writer and academic currently based in Glasgow, Scotland. Her poetry is recently published/forthcoming in Ink, Sweat & Tears, perhappened, Capsule Stories, Dust Poetry Magazine, The Winnow, Twist in Time, Ice Floe Press, Marble, and Dodging The Rain, and her debut collection will be published by Indigo Dreams Press in 2021. She tweets about poetry and other things here: @maryfordneal.