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No, You Are Alone Here

 Sharing with The Sunday Muse #182, hosted this week by Shay, whose poetry is a festival unto itself. That chill you feel creeping around your shoulders probably has nothing to do with the images she chose. They're definitely not waiting for you to offer a poem...


All the thoughts are curated; vitrines locked and watched;
We sprinkle dust along the floorboards, poison to rat and roach.
Spiders are swept by the women we bring in early.
We choose them for their solitary...strength.
Witches? We provide the brooms but not the titles.
Here are your dark robes, avoid the stun of the lights.
Gather your cobwebs, sister. Here is your shoe box for bodies.
No. You are alone among the shadows, here. Go on.
All the thoughts are labeled; unbroken glass won't breathe. 

Hello and welcome to another weekend poetry blog. My marigolds are blooming this week!!!! This is the second set of seeds that I put out after the first set just fizzled. Celebrating small victories this autumn.  Hope your writing takes off with the determination of a weed in the back of the bed this season! :) 

-- Chrissa

Comments

  1. FireblossomOctober 16, 2021 at 8:55 AM

    Oh, this is suh-weet, Chrissa. "The stun of the lights" oh yes. Never enter the storage cooler without an axe!

    ReplyDelete
  2. indybevOctober 16, 2021 at 9:15 AM

    Your marigolds are blooming ... and your pen is spiraling good stuff!!

    ReplyDelete
  3. Carrie Van HornOctober 16, 2021 at 11:02 AM

    Love this Chrissa!! The mysterious creepy and yet lovely feel of the whole poem is absolutely wonderful! Love those blooming marigolds too!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Linda Lee LybergOctober 16, 2021 at 12:08 PM

    What a wonderful poem!

    ReplyDelete
  5. Sherry Blue SkyOctober 16, 2021 at 5:38 PM

    "Gather your cobwebs, sister." I love it.

    ReplyDelete
  6. ms_liliOctober 16, 2021 at 7:45 PM

    Sounds like Crone School. I love it!

    ReplyDelete
  7. Gillena CoxOctober 16, 2021 at 10:36 PM

    "We provide the brooms but not the titles." This line made e pause and read again 😊

    much❤love

    ReplyDelete
  8. Marion HortonOctober 17, 2021 at 3:37 AM

    Who's for a spell of cleaning? Love the poem and the vibrant marigold.

    ReplyDelete
  9. hedgewitchOctober 17, 2021 at 8:45 AM

    Perfectly creepy, but in a scalpel-like, erudite way which lifts the tongue in cheek tone into something just a bit darker than usual, full of a light-fingered menace and gleams of something we might not want to look at too closely. Thanks for adding the word 'vitrine' to my vocabulary, as well as scaring me with shoeboxes.

    ReplyDelete
  10. qbitOctober 17, 2021 at 11:00 AM

    This is so. so good. Agreed with Hedge, it is scalpel clean, and the creepyness here is what? Us? The work we ask of so many people who remain hidden to us? Who are the ghouls? How necessary are the witches?

    ReplyDelete
  11. JimOctober 17, 2021 at 2:58 PM

    I like "the box." I save boxes, I envision a cigar box, a Whitman Sampler box, or a large shoe box for use here. :)

    ReplyDelete
  12. Susie ClevengerOctober 18, 2021 at 10:29 AM

    "unbroken glass won't breath" Goodness I love that line. Shoot, I could copy and paste every line. This is awesome poetry!

    ReplyDelete
  13. grapelingOctober 18, 2021 at 8:07 PM

    I too admire that closing line - a clean suture to stitch up the whole ~

    ReplyDelete

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