hollowings

Hollowings

She never sleeps at night, she listens for the geese:
Like reckless children slipping out of bed they call
"Come play!" she turns her face back to the wall
but never sleeps; she never sleeps, she never sleeps at all

they call for her, these large, ungainly birds - in flight,
out on the lake - they mother her across the miles
they plead with her to sleep, to rest awhile
their wings beat reconcile, beat reconcile, beat reconcile

and her reply curves like a smile across the moon
as heavy as her birds, as certain as her nights:
the summer days are losing all their light
she sees her fall in flight - she knows - she sees her fall in flight.


© Cynthia Newcomer Daniel

Sterling silver, lampwork by Donna Millard, hessonite garnets, andalusite, citrine. Hand fabricated.