pail,
you’ve caught
translucent visions,
or more solid reflections
of the thing that bores through darkness,
empty of everything except
(they would call hope empty)
except the warmth
this night refused to give us,
warmth even the sullen wood
at last admits after its mullings-over.
Gail Kathleen Jardine practices music and mathematics near woods and water. Her poetry appears in Enchanted Conversations, Sylvia Magazine, and Songs of Eretz.
Illustration by C.B. Auder.
NEXT – Shapeshift
PREVIOUS – Talking to the Sun
RETURN to Issue Eleven
Claw & Blossom 