Sunday, April 13, 2008
Listening to Garrison Keillor This Morning and Missing My Husband
"Last Night at the Farm, Spring 2005"by Lilly Marsh
Last night, I hadn't known how cold the house was
Until I was already downstairs.
Coming back up that long series on dark treads,
Ascending towards the dark rectangle at the top,
The dog nosed the door ajar.
I saw the light from the bedside candle spill forth,
Across all the angles and shadows of the door frame.
Our old farmhouse is so full of angles and shadows.
The narrow stairwell hall was dark and colorless,
An abstract study of gray and black,
Repeated patterns stark and stern.
But the candlelight fell golden across all the shadows, and,
I ascended, drawn back into the warmth,
Called back to bed by you.