The Shelterer

Day Nine

It is day nine of Poem-A Day-month and already I’m feeling the strain. Today’s prompt was to write a shelter poem.

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                   The Shelterer

When what I believe about life ends
in questions Wise and Dined over,
Slept over with eyes open
like a violent flash upon my pupils,

When I run to the sting of death,
fearful of life, not to join but to observe
loss of daybreak and all its enchantments,

When I lavish pity on my restrictions
and loss of mine and ours and envious
lusts, I have not the courage to confess
that my longing exceeds my memory
of faithfulness or innocence.

*        *        *

There is a man who reclines his eyes
With passion aging upon his lips
He grieves with hope. What sin was
missing to gift him this that veils
such a worm as I? What shelter is
his home? When what I believe about
life ends in questions, I will set my
table with him and shelter my fears
behind his eyes.

How about you?

I applaud those who are able to write more than one poem each day. I don’t know how they do it. How are you doing with your poeming this month? Keeping up? Catching up? Keep poeming.




Speak to me of thoughts unspoken.

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