Tahawus in April
Sarah Morehouse hasbeen reading since she was six and writing poetry since she was six anda half. She is now thirty. She spends a lot of time working as alibrarian at a distance learning college, which perplexes her actualemployers: the cats. She lives in Troy, NY, and if you like this lovelypoem, please read more of her work at http://sculptingwind.wordpress.com.
Tahawus in April
By Sarah Morehouse
Shaking the tent flap shatters crystal lace
the moist breath of night deposited.
The hearth that roared last night is quiet,
tamely licks the percolator on the grate.
Behind filigree of bare branches
the sun casts rainbows through the drops that hang from twig-tips.
A peregrine falcon shriek-shriek-shrieks its kill,
crossing overhead as we sit down to breakfast.
Tahawus in April
By Sarah Morehouse
Shaking the tent flap shatters crystal lace
the moist breath of night deposited.
The hearth that roared last night is quiet,
tamely licks the percolator on the grate.
Behind filigree of bare branches
the sun casts rainbows through the drops that hang from twig-tips.
A peregrine falcon shriek-shriek-shrieks its kill,
crossing overhead as we sit down to breakfast.
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