Saturday, November 23, 2013

Soft (Poem 235)

and we become so soft
summer cool and winter 
warm    we whose ancestors 
swathed continents on foot 
by horse or wagon   each 
exquisite day in fine detail   
crocus nosing a ribbon of snow   
snapping mornings   frost 
on quilts   tang of woodsmoke   
swirling leaves   melting summer 
days in wool and collars and 
sleeves and stays   you hold 
the door   toss keys   we peel 
off layers as we go   we shed 
our strength like sweat and salt 
and subway grime swept 
seaward by the shower's cool 
pulse   an end-of-day oasis    
our stern ghosts close the door 
on our laughter as they leave

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six


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