The Last Night in the Cottage by the Sea
I am inside. Walls are my biscuits.
I could eat them all day long
and never be full.
The carpet is the weave around hundreds of pockets.
I have put myself inside them
piece by piece.
Wind howl down the chimney tells me
about the moon. Full outside comes
with a shaft of light if I take a peep.
A silver stripe across the sea spreads
triangular towards me. I am
an unbalance of atoms caught in a time box.
…
Hannah Linden is published widely including or upcoming in Atrium, Lighthouse, Magma, New Welsh Review, Prole, Proletarian Poetry, Stand, The Interpreters’ House, Under the Radar and the 84 Anthology etc. She is working towards her first collection. Twitter: @hannahl1n
What a marvellous poem, thank you.
LikeLike
Thanks so much… only just had notification of your comment.
LikeLike
Great poem Hannah – really enjoyed it – great scope – from biscuits and pockets to the sea and the moon – well done – loved it!
LikeLike
Thanks Anne. I’ve only just seen this!
LikeLike
Beautiful, Hannah. Especially evocative for me as tonight will be my own last night in a cottage by the sea!
LikeLike
Thank Alex… I just had the notification for your comment today!
LikeLike
Than you so much. That’s very kind of you.
LikeLiked by 1 person