This Rough Bed
(Unsent letter from Mary Gainsborough to her sister, 1780, after her secret wedding)
Morning waking in London and you no
longer near me Mr. Fischer steals
away his clock is his own plays his oboe
gypsy sounds scales up and down his narrow
fingers are creeping I cannot hear my rain
I must watch the old women falling down
thick shoes they carry hideous parcels
the halls smell of fried things rancid oil
I cannot bear my rain I skip a breath
my sorrow my Sister you must recall
how we walked on Beechen Cliff how we saw
silks and brocades diadems with diamonds
ghost apples fell on us I must lie in
this rough bed my sister you are sleeping
in our garden in a cradle of stars
Carla Sarett
Carla Sarett is a poet and novelist based in San Francisco. She has been nominated for the Pushcart, Best of Net, Best Microfictions, and Best American Essays. She is the author of She Has Visions (Main Street Rag, 2022) and two chapbooks in 2023, My Family Was Like a Russian Novel (Plan B) and Woman on the Run (Alien Buddha). New poems appear or are forthcoming in The Potomac Review, The Nassau Review, Rust and Moth, and Stonecoast Review. Carla has a Ph.D. from University of Pennsylvania.
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