Long past bedtime nighttime mountain winter air sparkles ice inside her nose with the inbreath deep, deep, free, they’re asleep, they’re all asleep. Ember closes the door soft behind her and smells the moon: pines, minty, peppery pines, their outlines blurring green together into black. Off the stoop in nightgown and coat, she shifts the kitty backpack of graham crackers, marshmallows, chocolate. Socks, underpants, Jenny doll. Boots crush footprints in hard snow, slow then fast, making for the woods for …
Tag: Fire
Two Poems of Scented Place by Frances Daggar Roberts
En Auvergne We stooped to cross the threshold carrying evening on our shoulders and shadow curved the corners and the walls around a muted light. A simmering dark sauce breathed out a lure of something richly meat. We took our seats along a wooden bench quietly close as frogmouths. Knitted into family there we watched the sorcery of our hostess as she sliced the orange folds of mushroom into her steaming brew. A scatter of herbs unlike the ones we …
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“Like False Hazel…” * Four Poems * DS Maolalai
Hazelnuts it’s beautiful; this hot hazelnut coffee, made with sweet syrup and no hazelnuts at all, tasting nothing like hazelnuts and much like the future which bangs outside, brassy, band and big. it’s sunlight and slamming the pavements, slamming the window and slamming your hands on the coffeeshop table like the clip of a closing pianolid, and you’ve gotten two messages since sitting down, and both of them have been good; delicious like false hazel. it’s a wonderful thought, isn’t …