When at last after the long ordeal,
betrothed to bed, full of ale and meal,
she knelt and put her face to the must
of the cedar chest red to her touch,
she lifted the lid, its hinges oiled true,
and out came do, I, know, and you.
She reached for forever which broke apart,
and with the letters she sewed her heart
and the lid closed on the squelching words
help, hero, laugh, and sword.
“Why me, Lord?” she asked. “Why pick
me to stick with equanimity? This a trick?”
The Coming of the Toads 
She reached for forever which broke apart,
and with the letters she sewed her heart …
Thought. Maybe our blogposts are also keepsakes in a chest with well-oiled hinges.
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Hmm, as I’ve heard you say. I ask myself why talk in metaphor when everyday speech is already so chaotic. Of course it’s all metaphor, one word pointing the way to another. My chest is somewhat stuffed already this month. Thinking maybe I should go through it and throw some stuff out. There was that box in the basement, remember that one?
Speaking of book covers. Thought you might enjoy this Peter Mendelsund (book cover designer) interview. Talks about how he does what he does and why and how it works.
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Yes, I loved the atmosphere of the poem, the memories it brought alive, the box in the basement, molting notes, salted fingers, rusting paper clips, the waves curling letters in blue neon. All reclaimed by the ocean, or the Akasha. Wonderful photos, too, fond memories, for sure.
Re: Book covers. The cover for Peter Mendelsund’s book, I remember, impressed.
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Well, I’m happy yr novel is coming to fruition, and I’m keen to see the cover and read and turn the pages!
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