Renee Emerson

I listen to rain falling down the chimney,
rattling like bracelets on a bony arm.
The wind sucks out air
from the house, making the sound of fire
where there is no fire.
I am on our red couch writing,
you are in the bedroom sleeping.
If the storm comes, it will come
for us both, writing or sleeping,
so I let you sleep, the better way
to meet fate: with your eyes closed
thinking of something else.

***

I thought, now that one of my very bad first poems is available on my blog, I should maybe post a few of my favorite published poems, to redeem myself.

This is one of my own poems, already published (in my chapbook Something Like Flight and in 2River). I wrote this in college, a few months after B. and I got married, the semester before a tornado came and destroyed my school.

Note my lack of fear of storms? Ironic.

***

on another note,
Time of Singing accepted my poem “At the Seminary” for their winter issue! I was in their fall issue too, its nice to be in a magazine more than once.