October 16, 2012

poem 384 of a poem a day for 2012

snowshoe portal Goddess  

deep smiling
a patient grace
stepping in their mortars
tightened with small stones
to hold me in place
in their gaze
their double exposure
on the magnetic lens
between midnight
and the Moon
in the glass
on the second floor
along the Eastern side
of the house
captures me

they are 
every daughter of water 
with their coal slate fits
upon my soul
they grind the cold
back to where dreams
are warm again
and even with its diamond
cut sharp angles
the Sun that follows them
is none too willing
to cull my veins to bleed
me back to a beginning again

the light sees
I heed my hands
tuck them into my pockets
when the weather arrives
hats and mittens ward off
my thin blood to survive
until that next fire 
comes along to sit beside
waiting with a crackle
and hiss of tea
for my two handed
wrap of handles
around Hestia,
Artemis and Aphrodite

the ice shell
of Winter's womb
and inviting the night
to come with roots 
and to be willing
to be waiting
to know right
where I might 
be able to drink
and eat and
hang my boots
to dry


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