includes winds and oceans
and other elements we
cannot see.
Though she stretches
out in many directions
the lake does not
hide in her fingers.
In the sonnet, the beloved
is sent away. We have
only one glance
of her face. And this
feels true, the movement.
Each morning I wait for a wren—
she seeks my window every now and then.
Janice Majewski is a poet living in St. Louis. Her work is forthcoming in DIAGRAM, Lindenwood Review, and The Laurel Review and can be found in the Journal, Hobart, Blackbird, Cincinnati Review, and elsewhere. She holds an MFA from George Mason University and is the managing editor for Guesthouse.