After Work Hours


“In the drawer I found a mouse nest, with its small
hoard of seeds. But also I found a pin-cushion, many-colored squares of silk
sewn together and then embroidered.”- 
Hanging Pictures in Nanny’s Room, Jane Kenyon


There is scarce nature here

but soft fire nags the shelves,

jutting in multi-patterned plumage

like a phoenix.

As breathtaking as Michelangelo’s windows

the mock galaxy pleads,

expecting that I’ll bow before

so many voices.

I use my pure, paper dove

as a hallmark in producing love,

numbers of lines parading themselves

like silver  fountains.

Several peach teas water

a fantastic chorus of death and scholarship,

lives of salesmen and pretty thieves

forming the story altar.

My satiated otherness orders joy

to a tasty pink sunset,

after thirst fades largely forgotten

beneath gorgeous bookstore silence.

Each cover breathes number theory

and poetry through quiet rage

like slung knapsacks

and quite comparable to nothing.

Some eyes approach the stained-glass

as twisted raindrops

during their reading break but others

crack the rainbowed web.

This monotonous chapel work cries to be cuddled

so all that remains

is my stained experimentation

and a closing.


About violetprose

Writing pulls me out of myself and into a world of color. It soothes, encourages, and inspires, among other treasures. I use it to love, work, and play. I pray it breathes life and shares hope.
This entry was posted in Come Read With Me and Share My Love. Bookmark the permalink.

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