Temporary Job

Temporary Job
by Minnie Pratt
Leaving again. If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t be
grieving. The particulars of place lodged in me,
like this room I lived in for eleven days,
how I learned the way the sun laid its palm
over the side window in the morning, heavy
light, how I’ll never be held in that hand again.

0 thoughts on “Temporary Job

  1. Our dwellings become a part of us…becoming more than mere habitats but enmesh our sense experiences with a life awareness. Loved the personification of the sun in lines 4-5 (‘palm’) and the whole scene (‘hand’) at the end. thx for sharing Minnie!

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