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
between
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
EJR
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