Monday, 6 December 2010

Matt Galletta



Your name


Your name lives on my tongue.

Not in conversation,
not consciously,
but in the million
mindless moments
of a day,
it comes out.

Pouring coffee,
parking the car,
through all the countless
tiny tasks
that add up
to a life,

it's there:

a steady rhythm,
a gentle hum,
a one-word prayer
I keep repeating
under each breath.



Lately


It's like that night
when we drove home
from Boston
through all that fog.

No street lights
in sight,
we crawled with caution,

windshield wipers
thunking
at the moisture
beading up on the glass.

Barely able to see
the lane markings,
we couldn't tell
if there was a shoulder
to pull over onto.

Checking the rearview,
squinting into the gray
in front of us,
checking the rearview again,

we wondered when,
if ever,
things were going to clear up.



Matt Galletta lives with his wife, daughter, and cats in Troy, NY. His work has appeared in MediaVirus MagazinePigeonBikeRed Fez, and elsewhere. Find out more at Matt Galletta.


5 comments:

Peter Greene said...

Thanks, Matt- enjoyed. Sadness is like shadows; we all get them. I found your poems touching.

PG

Matt Galletta said...

Thanks, PG.
--Matt

Ande said...

This is as suggestive as it is skillful.

Jenny said...

Wonderful poems!

Matt Galletta said...

Thank you again for the kind words.
--Matt