A Poem-A-Day Celebration

In the long aftermath of grief, the right words have a compensatory beauty, as in these lines by Kevin Young.

- Knopf Poetry Team

***

Serenade

I wake to the cracked plate
of moon being thrown

across the room—
that’ll fix me

for trying sleep.
Lately even night

has left me—
now even the machine

that makes the rain
has stopped sending

the sun away.
It is late,

or early, depending—

who’s to say.
Who’s to name

these ragged stars, this
light that waters

down the milky dark
before I down

it myself.
Sleep, I swear

there’s no one else—
raise me up

in the near-night
& set me like

a tin toy to work,
clanking in the bare

broken bright.

***

Excerpt from DEAR DARKNESS © 2008 by Kevin Young. Excerpted by permission of Alfred A. Knopf a division of Random House, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.