Wednesday Night Respite, poem published by Thom Brucie

      Natalie dared not listen with her heart,
      But one Wednesday evening
      She leaned her head against
      The pocket of the kitchen wall.
      She hunted for new sounds
      Like bells within a forest
      Or a soft Aeolian wind.

      The mixture of excessive longing
      Lulled her ears away from noisy phones.
      Quiet crawled along her spine
      Like lavender oil
      And the tickle of this abundance
      Spread open her heart
      To dreams and desires
      Of pine and sycamore
      And riding a netted hammock
      Till the half-moon rose above
      The kitchen walls to clear them of
      Monotony
      And duty
      And stainless steel utensils.

      Away she let her heart’s days ride
      To lull her labored day to rest
      And thinking she finally found a forest for her joy
      She canned the memory
      Like a jam.


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Emma Cottrell
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