shot glass
Issue # 3 January 2011
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare


Jennifer Saunders is an American living in Switzerland with her Swiss husband and their Swiss-American sons. Her work has appeared in Literary Bohemian, Literary Mama, ouroboros review, Umbrella, and elsewhere.

Jennifer Saunders

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Reading the Book of Psalms Behind Closed Doors

My light was on when you arrived, your hands
casting away the cobwebs that barred my door.
I had not been expecting you so had not planned

for company. The greasy windows, the unswept floor.
There were no biscuits in the tin. I served you
water from the tap, cold and clear in a jelly-jar.

We spoke of small things as the naked bulb threw
our shadows against the wall. You said you saw me
waiting though I had not been expecting you.

We left that house together. I abandoned the debris
of years and locked the door behind us. I had begun
to believe you would never come, I would never leave.

How many houses did you pass on your way to my home;
how many porch lights flickered in the growing dark
illuminating no one?