Poetry |

“Moss”

MOSS

 

A dream of coming back

to see what is left and done —

 

long barred shadows

along the forest floor

as though there were a buried cage.

 

I walk through the woods.

And the moss keeps changing.

 

Sleeves of it on rotting logs,

large swaths spread on granite slabs

to soften the cold stone.

 

Then a miniature forest.

Finally, a sign.

I become so tiny I can walk right through it

 

to a fieldstone cottage

made of all the rocks I gathered as a child

in the woods near our house

 

to build the forts that I believed

would keep us safe.

 

 

Contributor
Sally Bliumis-Dunn

Sally Bliumis-Dunn’s third book of poems is Echolocation (Plume Editions, 2017). She teaches modern poetry at Manhattanville College.

Posted in Poetry

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.