O crosses


O crosses

The newel post swathed in coats, is skins
That long for human frames to walk them
Out of doors

Once I embraced it tenderly, I swear
I felt love from the linty folds
The  hard tree beneath

How many shucked skins we have
Always peeling off our parts
Hanging our hope up

On some inanimate man
Making a fetish of our dreams
The blue sky over the kissing gate!

And I still feel you in deep night
Strung inside me , singing

As the cold house shudders in contraction
The heat quite gone from its timbers.


Veronica Aldous all rights reserved 2018



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