Poetry by Marianne Lonsdale
I don’t tell you
That I think about the logistics
More than I think about missing you
Instead I bring home
the rustic sourdough bread
and red wine you love
I don’t tell you
that I’m picking the music
I cry in the car, listening to In My Life
I don’t tell you
I want the gift of time
To say our good-byes
Nothing sudden please
I don’t tell you
To put your arms around me
So I can breathe in your spiciness
My eyes moist with dew
I don’t tell you
I’ll sell the house
And move to something small
That does not require your care
Don’t go
Marianne Lonsdale’s Marianne Lonsdale’s debut novel, When The Road Curves, was published by Sibylline Press in 2026. She writes fiction, personal essays, and poetry. Her work has been published in several print anthologies and various online journals including The New York Times, The Bluebird Word, Literary Mama, and Pulse. She’s committed to youth literacy efforts and volunteers with 826 Valencia and the Oakland Literacy Coalition. She lives in Oakland with her husband and their dog, Ricky Ricardo.
