fields of December grass shift eloquently in deep winds
do you sense the down of my back?
the smallness of feathers in slate grey
looking out amongst the birch branches sprouting white fingers
to sift golden rays and melancholy piano notes
a melody to sink the blood in my heart
in the evening do you lay in your bed, blanketed in darkness
the bottom of night’s belly and think of me too?
the nightgown and the rise of my chest
a single star visible through the curtain
do you have the medicine inside you
to heal the hard walls you’ve built?
when the solstice bells toll
the inside of my palm is strong
I can hold your warmth
cradle you in the softness of my voice
Katie Rosenblatt lives in Florence, MA, and has a nine-year-old son. She makes jewelry, writes poetry, and likes to draw. She works in an elementary school as a paraprofessional. Katie graduated from the Rhode Island School of Design in 2004.