Sunday, July 29, 2007

Cold and Comfort

I never started a 'hope chest'
when you asked me to.

It seemed too much of an invitation
for bad things to happen,

beginning a collection of linen,
crocheted doilies, and baby gowns

for the home and family
I would one day establish.

I was afraid to jinx my chances.

It's winter here now, Mum.
The wind's so cold.

I'm in a wide open place
where I've never been before,

a field, with sparse trees
off in the distance.

Today, I think I might like
to have a hope chest.

I'd fold into it
the rabbit-fur coat Gran gave me

to take out and throw round my shoulders
like the arms of a friend, or mother,

whenever I feel I might fall.

4 Comments:

Blogger Chris Never said...

Yes, it reads well, but personally, I prefer the original layout, I like the way you open talking to your mother about the cold, and then go into the hope chest discussion.

10:17 PM  
Blogger burning moon said...

hmmm ... yeah, I sort of like the conversational opening as well.

11:09 PM  
Blogger burning moon said...

maybe it sets it up better than jumping in at the hope chest line ... hmmm

thanks

11:10 PM  
Blogger lasue3 said...

Stunning poem. I loved it.

8:41 PM  

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