Photo: Chiranjit Ojha. Licensed CC-BY-NC-SA.
Photo: Chiranjit Ojha.
Licensed CC-BY-NC-SA.

Call me to the heat            after raving in the heather
Call me to the blaze           to baste meat and brew drink

Vesta was a virgin, yet she knit households like a mother

Show me your heart, Vesta, how many chimneys

Family sought warmth after wettings
safe flames with which to dance
light to guide home from hunt
or battle or dull senate

Back to an element of us

Vesta, called Earth, left only heat-cracked rock, bits of fishbone

Call me, Vesta, to the innocence of your fire

Categories Poetry

Pamela Hobart Carter loves Seattle as much for its water and mountains as for its bustle and creativity. She explores the Emerald City daily while walking her dog. Carter used to be a teacher who wrote on the side. Now she is a writer who teaches on the side.

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