UNEXPECTED POEM

Sometimes, the poetry Muse leaves you alone for months at a time.  You try very hard to call this experience “the fallow time”.  But you’re secretly sure she will never return… , Like that rider in the subway below Boston, ‘her fate… still unlearned…’

Other times, the Muse takes you by the scruff of the neck.  This September, and even tiptoeing back into August, nights have tended to be poetry-ridden.

If you’re very lucky, you have poet friends who will generously suggest simple but essential changes.  One of my great life gifts is Betty Lies.  Her delicate ‘removal of the on-ramp’ significantly strengthened this new one.

 

EXTINGUEE

 

hard to imagine

this dark circle

once spewed light

interrupted sleep

suffused worship

let alone ignited dreams

 

interrupted conversations

–flames audible as some distant bell

tugging its train of memories and hopes

 

figures danced here

nourishments were transformed

smoke itself spicing the empty air

 

21st-century fingers

sift through silken ashes

wondering

 

CAROLYN FOOTE EDELMANN

October 2016

 

 

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