methow grist 2011-2014 archive


Speaking from the Heart

My lover tells me
I should speak more from my heart.
She doesn’t know that
When I was growing up,
We kept our hearts
In the shed in gallon jars.
When it got cold,
We brought them in
So they wouldn’t freeze.
Winters were hard,
Being so close,
Listening to them beating
Through the thin wall,
Hoping to find one another
In the dark.




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