My heart founders. Blue vessels
making their appointed rounds
as they have for half a hundred years
don't notice the fresh fissures
in their pumping center.
My sorrow grows, new woes
arrive daily, specters slip
into my thinning brain. Ancient
memories from dark air snap
open my eyes just as I begin
to fall into the early night.
In time, I drift down again for
exactly two and a half dreams
'till another regret swoops from
the bleak crescent moon and wakes me.
Alec Solomita has published fiction in The Mississippi Review, Heart of Flesh, Southwest Review, The Adirondack Review, and Peacock, among other publications. He was shortlisted by the Bridport Prize and Southword Journal, and named a finalist by the Noctua Review. His poetry has appeared in Algebra of Owls, The Galway Review, The Blue Nib, Oddball Magazine, Poetica, and elsewhere. His poetry chapbook, "Do Not Forsake Me," was published by Finishing Line Press in 2017. He lives in Massachusetts, USA.