This is a Letter to Virginia Woolf

Kelli Pomroy


T o T h e L i g h t h o u s e

Conformed to the bay.

Certain of a love.
A painting.
A destination.
A home.

Changing as time travels.
Blues parallel.
Destruction comes.
Ground eats away.

Constant reminder of an intertwined melody.
Of delicacy.
Of the mirror.
Of the waves.

V ‘ s D i a r y

Saturday, August 12th
Hovering in your mind today
after you read Dickens and Austen.
The Moths. The image. The struggle in your pen.

Wednesday, September 25th
The Waves now. You wanted to quit.
I’m thankful you didn’t.
It wasn’t pleasurable to write.
I promise, it was pleasurable to read.

Saturday, November 30th
Your room at Rodmell would be the key.
Something was missing. It was nonsense.
You kept erasing and you couldn’t find the center.
Is there such thing?

Wednesday, April 9th
So many questions you left.
Are there no true words? Is there
only one person? One exact thing to slip
into while keeping the book itself alive? You give us a hint.
Bernard: he goes on straight in the final stride. End.

Wednesday, January 7th
We can’t read The Waves between tea
and dinner. High pressure pushes
brains to knots. Half past twelve, you’re
tightly spun.

Sunday, July 19th
L said a masterpiece.
This is extremely difficult, V.
What did the reviewers say? Your friends?
It screwed their brains up.

Thursday, October 8th
Published. Hogarth Press.

About the Work

Kelli Pomroy

Kelli Pomroy is a recent graduate of Stetson University. She received her B.A. in English and will continue her education with a M.A. in English next spring. Outside of Stetson University’s literary magazine, Touchstone, this is her first publication. Currently, she lives in Daytona Beach, Florida where she continues to write poetry under the influence of large cups of coffee.

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