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Iced In
By Allison Boyd
QuailBellMagazine.com
I.
Iced in, eyes shut: Birds are bold against the cold.
The cat cries
at the ice, hunkers down wide- eyed to watch. The strays fend for themselves, and I am tucked away upstairs, guarded by the drip of the bathtub faucet and the tick of the library clock. II. The roads are not yet clear. You ask me what is right. I cannot answer. I insist I cannot answer. I will not go down into your cellar or your heart until you light a fire, at least. I'll come downstairs if you'll set fire to the east. III. I am fire enough in my own right. I am ice enough in my own night. I am fire enough in my own darkened library. You must invite me. You must invite. IV. Birds are bold against the ice; the birds and I are hungry. I'll come downstairs if you'll give me something to eat. You should light a fire, at least. You say that you want to set fire to the east. I am fire enough in my own right. V. Night will gather us back in. From our darkened library I watch the ice crack. You'll come back. We have no malice, only ice and fire and iron devotion. You say that I say you're devoid of emotion. I stay silent, ice-shut. We know better. I know better. Light a fire, please, at least.
#Unreal #Poem #Ice #FireAndIce #MeMyselfAndI #Devotion #FireEnough
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Comments
Bill Brown
1/29/2016 10:08:09 am
Such a clean, beautiful experience put forth in this poem!!! Comments are closed.
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