Beyond The Confines
By Sarah Bigham
In the light-shorted days of deep
winter I dream of spangled green
through a shattered eye of glass
made whole by memories from
before the squalor of pain
the husk-making of illness
and the sickness of loneliness.
winter I dream of spangled green
through a shattered eye of glass
made whole by memories from
before the squalor of pain
the husk-making of illness
and the sickness of loneliness.
Whitewashed walls
meant to divide
inside / from / outside
echo and crumble under cooling dust
and the drifting, desiccated
smell of dry rot.
Or is it my bones?
Sarah Bigham teaches, writes, and paints in Maryland where she lives with her kind chemist wife, their three independent cats, an unwieldy herb garden, several chronic pain conditions, and nearconstant outrage at the general state of the world tempered with love for those doing their best to make a difference. A Pushcart Prize nominee, Sarah’s poetry, fiction, and nonfiction have appeared in a variety of great places for readers, writers, and listeners. Find her at www.sgbigham.com.