Snowflakes sparkle in
front of the neon open
sign in the window.

Once inside the face
of my favorite waitress
makes me forget the

snowy streets. Her face!
Streets beneath an immeasur-
able star and the

long cold walk here, my
hunger, the dark no match for
the match struck in time.

Author: Tom D'Evelyn

Tom D'Evelyn is a private editor and writing tutor in Cranston RI and, thanks to the web, across the US and in the UK. He can be reached at D'Evelyn has a PhD in Comparative Literature from UC Berkeley. Before retiring he held positions at The Christian Science Monitor, Harvard University Press, Boston University and Brown University. He ran a literary agency for ten years, publishing books by Leonard Nathan and Arthur Quinn, among others. Before moving to Portland OR he was managing editor at Single Island Press, Portsmouth NH. He blogs at and other sites.

2 thoughts on “Match”

  1. Beautiful.

    Can’t help but think the first stanza should come last. Otherwise, there is no forgetting. ‘Makes me’ would be ‘I will’.

    But what do I know? I’ve just come back late from the pub. It rains here. It doesn’t snow.


    Sent from my iPad


    1. Ah you’re a cunning one Jamie and too clever for me. I just take chronology on faith. Things happen in sequence. As in cooking. Neon before equivocity of Levinasian face, yeah mate, before Bonnefoy’s star, which I borrowed, then the plurivocity of match which just happened in the light of the metaxy. I’m so glad you called it beautiful. It don’t mean a thing if it don’t got that swing.


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