Silver Unbinding by Teri H Hoover
Every room in the palace was empty save for one.
Poetry lived in the silver room with heavy curtains,
and waited for the quiet tap on the door.
The glass bookshelves did not mind the burden.
Visitors found their way
in through the hidden gate,
in the garden,
through hidden halls,
To tap on the turquoise door.
Inside silver circled without stopping.
A sliver of light slipped in like a knife.
Allowing hope and fear.
Virtue slept on the couch and snored softly.
A drunk too tired to wish,
curled up in the corner and waited for few kind words.
Far from all the breaking chaos of the edge,
diminishing connection curved and wedged.
Freedom to bend made one think more fondly of the all that is straight.
In the garden a little ditch carried away yesterdays rain.
The words from the Sunday Whirl: lburden, bends, drunk, poetry, virtue, palace,
ditch, diminishing, wish, breaks, room, steps