Silvia Curbelo

In the Land of Missed Chances

There was no news
in God’s country. The sun
sank without warning.
Every ship sailed away.

No one sang for her supper
or looked for answers in the stars
or prayed for rain.
No one poured the last wine.
The dispossessed left nothing
in their wake.

There were no telephones
ringing, no music playing.
Nothing bloomed in the yard.
No one was lost or blamed
or left for dead.

There were no crimes to speak of.
The cops found no fresh signs
of struggle, no blood on
the sheets, no lipstick-smeared
cigarettes still smouldering in
ashtrays. No one gave up
the ghost or fell from grace.

Nobody rolled the dice
or held the winning card.
The last of our luck ran out,
swallowed the key,
and closed the book.
We didn’t have a prayer.

SILVIA CURBELO is the author of two poetry collections: The Secret History of Water (Anhinga Press) and The Geography of Leaving (Silverfish Review Press). Her poems have appeared in The American Poetry Review, Indiana Review, The Kenyon Review, and Prairie Schooner. A native of Cuba, she lives in Tampa, Florida, where she no longer wears silk stockings, smokes unfiltered Camels, or drinks bourbon straight from a coffee cup.

“In the Land of Missed Chances” appears in our Summer 2002 issue.

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