N/ever

This entry is part 14 of 29 in the series Morning Porch Poems: Winter 2012-13

And the poem: does it hold you,
welcome you, swallow you whole?

Does it burrow in you like a secret,
wind the key a little tighter

in the lock, unravel like a bright
string of yarn plucked from a sleeve?

Does it send down the night like a maw
or use the silhouettes of trees for fringe?

When nothing stirs, it’s easy to think
the mountain’s cold heart won’t thaw.

 

In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.

Series Navigation← NostosStrange fur, this fine →

1 Comment


  1. Love this poem! thank you for sharing! Your poem brought me back to the one that thawed my mountain heart full of atrophy which was Ennui by Plath. Every line here sings the song of how that poem destroyed me and how, in its wake, it remade me.

    Reply

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