before darkness drains from
the boundary of sky. His breath
comes slowly in the room’s chilly
air, so he dresses quickly, tiptoes out
into the silent street. There he sees
dark forms of trees gently swaying
to life, feels the pulse of dawn as she
coaxes him, wild lover ready for play.
Steve Klepetar’s work has appeared widely, and several of his poems have been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. Recent collections include My Son Writes a Report on the Warsaw Ghetto (Flutter Press) and Return of the Bride of Frankenstein (Kind of a Hurricane Press).