Monday, March 12, 2018

Snowbound by Gareth Culshaw

The snow is melting now,
like my mother who sits
in her chair, week after week,
sewing the months together.

Her laughter ripples
beneath the skin. A mouth,
that once spoke words, opens
like an unused barn door.

Her words flicker out, pigeon
like in their flight. I see the weight
of the snow, the fallen sky
trapping her in, hiding the person
I know.



Gareth Culshaw is from Wales. He has his first collection out in April by FutureCycle Press.

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