Burning Down the House

In winter it is all wet.
The trees burdened groundward.
Exhausted cedar boughs
reach skyward to nothing.
Clawing at the clouds
like they’ve woken up inside
a grave without a bell.

I look inward to late spring.
The marginal brightening.
A shuttered window at midnight where
there’s dancing inside
and the light trips out just around the edges.
In summer the house burns down again
and everyone gets out alive.

Published by

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s