Night House
More
words from Texas writer Mariah Boone (doesn't her name just exude
Texas?!) on this the last night of September. If you haven't read her
other poems yet, try Packing for Day Care and Eclipse
on the poemblog. This poem speaks of ritual preparation in the season
of storms and it also speaks to the way we bond to home, in the
structural and figurative senses. Keep up with Mariah at her blog.
Night House
By Mariah Boone
Near miss and we've unpacked
The supplies kept ready to flee the storm
Breathing finally in relief
Wondering if we waited too long—if it had turned
Could we have gotten out on crowded roads
The boards still darken our windows
Four days after they went up
Nailing them in place
And the worry
Was enough—
We haven't yet the energy
To take them down
This house is a night house
Dark in brightest day
It makes me sleepy
Womb-slow
Wanting to rest until all of life's exhaustions
Are replenished
Night House
By Mariah Boone
Near miss and we've unpacked
The supplies kept ready to flee the storm
Breathing finally in relief
Wondering if we waited too long—if it had turned
Could we have gotten out on crowded roads
The boards still darken our windows
Four days after they went up
Nailing them in place
And the worry
Was enough—
We haven't yet the energy
To take them down
This house is a night house
Dark in brightest day
It makes me sleepy
Womb-slow
Wanting to rest until all of life's exhaustions
Are replenished
Very nice...I love the imagery of the night house, "womb-slow".
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