Spaces

I do not know how

she felt, but I keep

thinking of her—

screaming out to an empty street.

I had been asleep

when I heard a voice

screaming, Help!

and frantic, when I opened my door.

I remember her shoulders

in the faded towel I found

before she put on my blue sweats

and white T-shirt. Call 911

please, she said.

When the officer arrived

I said, I found her there after the—

But she said,

No, that wasn’t what

happened.

What must be valued

I’m learning,

in clarity and in error,

are spaces

where

feelings are held.

Here—in a poem?

And elsewhere