National Poetry Month: ROOM WITH TWO WINDOWS by Sarah V. Schweig

When he left, I was what was left. When two trees fell, I saw them falling.

The noise of the street quiets the mind now the trees and wind are gone.

Today I watch a man saw away the dead branch he’s standing on.

That’s the last of it, he shouts down. Not to me, but to someone.

This poem is from issue 39.1. You may purchase a copy here.