La Posada by Rose Auslander


“On the Road to You”

A few buildings squat
some slump
others lie down

Only one raises up
sharp teeth
ready to
bite the sky.

“In the Evening”

The tree reaches past
the lamp in the room till
the bell rings and opens
the red wooden door
to you who can laugh at
the sun till it fades to the
candle that chills
the lamp into smoke that
hushes the bell and
closes the door.

“On Ghost Mountain”

A ridge, worn soft and
gray with snow,
sits calm under
broken wings of clouds,
holy, somehow,
across the dry lake
and oh, I wish
I could stay.


This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged by Miriam Sagan. Bookmark the permalink.

About Miriam Sagan

I'm blogging about poetry, land art, haiku, women artists, road trips, and Baba Yaga at Miriam's Well ( The well is ALWAYS looking to publish poetry on our themes, sudden fiction, and guest bloggers and musers.

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