Sunday, August 6, 2017

How the Poem Gets In (Day 200)

First, the soft sound 
of stocking-footed steps, 
barely a breath on 
the concrete. A whisper, 
a slight change in the quality 
of light raining down 
through windows opened 
wide to capture even 
the shyest rays of sunlight. 
Like a gentle nudge—no, less—
a mellow pressing against 
my side, friendly as 
the family dog, but unknown, 
unfamiliar until now. 
Ears trained on the non-silence, 
straining to hear vague rustlings, 
I look up from my knitting,
blink as if shaken awake from 
a long, dreaming doze, alert 
to the stirred air, the charged 
atmosphere, and welcome my new 
guests, inviting them to sit 
on my velvet sofa, offering 
a fresh pot of tea. Sustenance, 
because the day is young, 
and we have work to do.

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: Simon Q

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