Penelope in the Car

I drive and evening breaks 
into a panorama of orange
stretching so far in violet

that I’m sailing the Aegean 
my first season on my own 
since my husband died—

but the sky remembers us 
together. Clouds unfurl
the shroud Penelope unweaves

to trick the suitors. I am unwoven
from misery into a geography
of joy by the ocean of the sunset—

the past and the horizon
merge. A small silver moon
rises low in the indigo sky.

LAUREL BRETT

Laurel Brett holds a Ph.D. Her thesis won a national award. She has published essays and a book of literary criticism, Disquiet on the Western Front. Her novel The Schrödinger Girl was called a page-turner by the New York Times. Her debut poetry collection, Penelope in the Car, will be released soon by Indolent Books.