Poem: East of the Sun | Poetry | Hudson Valley | Hudson Valley; Chronogram
Pin It

Poem: East of the Sun 

February, the light tells me
what to do. His scent draws me

The den is quiet, outside hushed
by earthen walls.
I climb into his lap of fur.

Asleep, his heart is a slow drum.
He arranges me with his paws,
wears me as he dreams.

My body is changed now,
Slippery. I have a tail,
and beech leaves in my hair—

more myself than ever.
In profile, he has a roman nose,
And eyes that possess

my secrets.

Pin It


Subscribe to this thread:

Add a comment

Hudson Valley Events

submit event

Latest in Poetry

Readers' Favorites

Chronogram on Instagram