Rooms with left open doors
Moonlight, on stretches of night
Soft mists that wash the sky
She remembers: curved arches
A rougher alabaster, the print of
A Girl with Pearl Earring
It was in Amsterdam
That she bought the notebook
Their parting then, ever more painful
Pages; torn out, torn to hold
To hold, with thoughtful hands
Tears withheld from her unsafe eyes
This is a poem from Vagaries:
Love of The Key to Room 149