Monday, June 24, 2013

Poem 85: Upstart

Twisted, like softly-plied 
Wool in your fingers,
The points of your needles
Find all the right loops--
Twisted, and wrapped, and
Pulled through and knotted,
Then folded, forgotten, in
A cupboard to which you've
Long since lost the key.

Resting in darkness, with
Others who kept you 
Warm, no harm done, no
Storm damage
From tempests that once
Rose like fury between us,
Erupting in downpours
Of unspoken words.

But what seemed safe,
Now is not, and my rest is
The refuge of disused and
Misplaced loves, faces forgotten, 
Our voices unknown.

You save face, we trail 
Into the forest, and comfort 
Each other with tales
Of our fortune and 
Harrowing escapes
From your upstart heart.

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six