Standing in front of the closet, their twin beds shaggy
as two dogs. Dark wood and dark shoes. Working
on abundance. They’ve assembled this room from air,
each piece conceived and floated down, hooks
for the things to come. The silence of the room allowing
everything to be. The walls are papered with cash. Real
life is ground and cooked in the kitchen, applying the heat
and the knife. But back here is another system, the closet
like a cave in the woods. The ironed lines of a shirt, some
blue lace hiding. They take off their shoes in their own
particular dance. Twinkle lights not yet on. His glasses
set down. Her hair still a beacon. Before they commence
their starched rest, a breeze out of the closet. Birds.
As Early as I Can
Susan Grimm has been published in Sugar House Review, The Cincinnati Review, Phoebe, and Field. Her chapbook Almost Home was published in 1997. In 2004, BkMk Press published Lake Erie Blue, a full-length collection. In 2010, she won the inaugural Copper Nickel Poetry Prize. In 2011, she won the Hayden Carruth Poetry Prize and her chapbook Roughed Up by the Sun’s Mothering Tongue was published. In 2022, she received her third Ohio Arts Council Individual Artist Grant.