When… After… In

Photo: Jon Flobrant. CC0/Public domain.

When the thermometer reads fifteen degrees,
when the sea stretches infinitely,
when you stare unseeingly,
when you expose no sign of weakness—let alone tears,
when the smoke of your home chimneys
rises beyond the lip of your view,
you seek refuge in memory.

And at last, after weeks or eons,
after the waves jostle,
after every horizon fogs,
after you drift ashore,
after ground gains a sense of solidity,
after you stumble into company,
you zero in on one other.

In that instance,
you discover memory
matches memory.

You are returned.

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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