Once more
reaching into cold depths
fingerless hands numbly rooting
blind mole sniffing out plunder
the bulb's out (still)
so it's search by feel
familiar and (oh god yes please) unfamiliar
texture shape taste
there must (I tell me)
there must be
something in here
this box cannot be empty
something overlooked
in previous raids
image analogy feeling glimmer
something
sense memory
or lingering emotion
one shapely wisp of frosty mist
curling away from it
this is not an empty box
motionless with cold disuse
life has emerged here
before this
so reach in once more
feel for the new thing never felt
the gift
the spark
rub off the icy crust
warm it with hands
with breath
ignite the poem into life
Comments
Jennifer Dixey
February 10, 2012
Permalink
Yes
That blind groping in darkness ... so much more apt than the crisp white of an "empty page". So much more true to how it feels.