CHARLES SIMIC
Night
in
the House of Cards
A lot of dust has settled today,
The Evening News said.
The walls still shook from time to time
As if the night was a truck
Loaded with gravel rumbling by.
Then it was quiet.
The builder of the house of cards,
Had rushed off
Holding her masked children by the hand.
I didn't dare light another match
And look at the walls.
There were pictures everywhere of bearded men
And their bearded wives.
The match-flame made them dance
So that afterwards
I lay sleepless in the dark.
In the night, the wind
That chills the stars
to
a squint
Blew a card from the roof
Up one of its dark sleeves.
The dawn sky was like a torn red lining
Of a fleeing black overcoat.
