the fraying hem of your dress
lifts in the wind while you sway, remembering
the midnight-blue gown you once wore,
how it suited your style to perfection.
Fearing darkness, I must confess
I loved you more before
your voice fell back into the shadows.
Yet, in your new translucency
you seem more truthful than in April.
Show me how to let the moon suffuse me
with its light the way it passes through
your silvered form
and makes it glitter like a shattered star.
–
Laura Ann Reed is a Contributing Editor with The Montréal Review. She holds master’s degrees in clinical psychology and in the performing arts. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in eight anthologies, including Beyond Words and Poetry of Presence II, as well as in numerous journals. Her most recent work appears or is forthcoming in The Laurel Review, Beyond Words, ONE ART, Illuminations, The Ekphrastic Review, and SWWIM. Her forthcoming chapbook, Homage to Kafka, will be published in mid-July 2025. https://lauraannreed.net/
© 2025, Laura Ann Reed
Halfway Down the Stairs 
Gorgeous!
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