Member-only story
to believe in things that seem frail
a free verse poem for Crucible: the stone womb of elderhood
“She captured my heart from the moment I first saw her, battered and leafless, on the cusp of a still-frosty spring.” — Sharon Blackie, Hagitude
It’s taken this long to taste the hurt hidden in something new.
But this is the only medicine now
as the cosmic pulse quickens. Sweet tea
takes hours to let go in the hot sun, release bitterness
for the right flavor. Do you remember that roadside motel
where we stood in the shower until the hot
water ran out? The room filling with steam before we
even touched each other. A sudden spring storm
piled snow outside our window. We were the last ones
to leave when the sun came out. Souls stir with crystals
of wonder when seeing something for the first time. Tiny creatures
and stars above, gleam. In the beginning it is so easy to believe
in things that seem frail. Why has our wondering
muscle grown weak? We so easily stack small boulders
