This Long Night
A poem by Lisa Shulman

This Long Night
The bad do not win—not finally.
-Alberto Ríos

You awaken in darkness
damp chill shivers your bones
makes you curl tighter
beneath the threadbare blanket
you believed could keep you warm

Know in your flickering heart it cannot
know it is time to throw it off
to step barefoot onto cold floorboards
and fling open the window
to this long night

It is dark, yes, but see
there are stars pricking the black sky
a pale smile of moon
peering out behind the clouds

You gather up what small magic you can—
bright stones, dried petals, the memory
of trees and rivers
blow a tiny flame to flickering
and step outside

There is faint light on the horizon
and to your left and your right
the star-like sparks brought by the others
all moving with you
toward dawn

About the Author:

Lisa Shulman is a writer, children’s book author, and teacher. Her work has appeared in Catamaran, Minnow Literary Magazine, California Quarterly, The Best Small Fictions, and a number of other magazines and anthologies. Nominated for a Pushcart Prize, and a winner in the Jessamyn West Creative Writing contest, Lisa’s poetry has also been performed by Off the Page Readers Theater. Her chapbook Fragile Bones, Fierce Heart is forthcoming from Finishing Line Press. Lisa lives in Northern California where she teaches poetry with California Poets in the Schools. www.lisashulman.com

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