The warm cave of the apartment
with windows shuttered and doors locked
is safe from visits and chatter
outside, downstairs, and all places
that call urgently and sweetly,
imagining themselves to be
gardens of growth, power, delight
or special companionship.
It’s not always seasonal, this
wish to see gardens remotely
from the safety of the cavern’s
thick walls, with chinks large enough to
look out but too small to disturb
a languid and healing darkness.
My blog poems are rough drafts.
Please respect my copyright.
If you quote, credit this page.
© 2019 Susan L. Chast