Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Twilight in the Cabin

T’is comfort here
In Hub’s wee cabin
The storm bluster
Must stop or skip
Those outgrowths
That widen the gap
Between a wood fire,
Ageing organic matter,
—And other frontiers
Tepid with gore.

4 comments:

Joy Des Jardins said...

Honestly, that sounds like Nirvana to me....reminding me of my own little hide-away place when I was just a kid...thank you Roberta.

Roberta S said...

Thank you, Joy for stopping in and sharing. I've been sneaking out to the cabin with my laptop and the muses that hang around there have no use for 'prose', all they want is poetry -- and the poetry they want, I write, but don't fully understand. So it was nice to know there was a message in this wee poem that tweeked pleasant memories for you.

Dick said...

'East, west, home's best', as it said on my granny's biscuit tin lid! A neat little reminder, Roberta.

Roberta S said...

Thank you for visiting, Dick. You are so right.