Tonight's Poet Corner: Second Home
Second Home
by Belinda Roddie
This is where I could be reborn - the bricks
hold bones that are less fractured than mine,
the drywall repelling the emotions that I've
stirred in egg nog or steeped in herbal tea - hot
cocoa soothes a tired body by the fire, but if
the heat no longer warms you, then it's not worth
basking in to begin with. Still, I could get used
to this place - its roof keeps God's tears away,
and that suits me just fine. All I need is a bed,
a desk, and an easy chair that holds secrets
in its cushions, and its skeleton has stories
written across it in ink. Then I will be willing
to invite a guest or two over, as long as they are
okay with feeling my frozen body against theirs,
while I play the phoenix and am actually reborn.
by Belinda Roddie
This is where I could be reborn - the bricks
hold bones that are less fractured than mine,
the drywall repelling the emotions that I've
stirred in egg nog or steeped in herbal tea - hot
cocoa soothes a tired body by the fire, but if
the heat no longer warms you, then it's not worth
basking in to begin with. Still, I could get used
to this place - its roof keeps God's tears away,
and that suits me just fine. All I need is a bed,
a desk, and an easy chair that holds secrets
in its cushions, and its skeleton has stories
written across it in ink. Then I will be willing
to invite a guest or two over, as long as they are
okay with feeling my frozen body against theirs,
while I play the phoenix and am actually reborn.
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