Monday, December 12, 2011

"Dusk with Daybreak"

Dusk with daybreak—the shadowed haze   
sits cold upon my shoulders   
hiding Future in gray unknowns.   

Tethered to old illusions,   
I hunker low to the Mother   
longing to return to her   
as mist gentles me to slumber,   
numbs my fears, halts my labored   
breath with winter’s monotony.   

Knees pulled tight, a fetal ball   
of too many expectations,   
I flee in desperation   
back to her welcoming graces.   

My unsteady hand gathers   
kindle, possibilities fueled   
by spring’s retreat, fall’s demise.   

A flame feeds upon offerings   
of leaf and twig, stick and log   
until the blaze scorches my cheeks,   
warms my tremulous fingers,   
and banishes the icy gloom.    

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

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