• Carly Feinman

Day 24- 10.10.20

It started with one

It happened one afternoon last autumn

just as the figs were beginning to turn purple.

I came home from the office to find

the sleek, ivory blind

lying dead atop a pile of clean clothes.

It was the first to fall. Today, six careless blinds

make it a daily habit to loosen and drop down. They often do it while I’m away,

though on occasion one just

can’t help itself and it falls dramatically

while I’m there on the bed

as if to say “boo.”

Maybe next year all 22 blinds will be fallen

and I’ll be forced to just make peace

with living in the open.


Recent Posts

See All

Day 44- 10.30.20

The Statue Grove Standing at the base of this family of redwoods, I am enveloped in shadow, in mosquito swarms and in the lengthy lineage of these silent, stoic beasts. I wait a beat, before turning b

Day 43- 10.29.20

It's molten, this energy I go down to the park just as dusk reveals a full, yellow moon hanging high in the sky like a journeyman's handheld lamp. I hear them before I see them. The dogs. The dogs tum

Day 42- 10.28.20

Side Table Still Life An empty glass, a Biden mug, half full with this morning’s coffee, a dusty cotton lamp, and a pen balancing on a couple paperbacks.