Vespertine

violet unmoors

conversation bends
                       some paring of silk interiors,

bland reproach
           what is it you . . .

an unkind catch of doors
                                   along the courtyard

                                                                   stone
cools when a night verges on . . .

the olive tree corroborates
                               wasn't it a darkly angled sky


Beth Bretl is a Ph.D. candidate in English at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, where she recently served as co-editor of poetry for The Cream City Review. Her poetry and fiction have been published or are forthcoming in North American Review, Porcupine Literary Arts Magazine and Calyx.