Hobble Creek Review
| Marie-Elizabeth Mali |
Cracked Refuge
Because I identify with turtles, coming home
is not about waiting arms, though I love
his around me, and the place we call ours.
Not my writing chair, silver velvet, well
loved by cats, nor about the view
from there, prayer flags
outside the window through which
I watch seasons pass, flowers bloom
and blanket the terrace.
Turtles carry their homes, marked
and shaped, cracked refuge; home
is within the carapace of the heart,
the bowing of head, the bringing
of hands together in prayer. I come
to the one place I know, I belong.
Because I identify with turtles, coming home
is not about waiting arms, though I love
his around me, and the place we call ours.
Not my writing chair, silver velvet, well
loved by cats, nor about the view
from there, prayer flags
outside the window through which
I watch seasons pass, flowers bloom
and blanket the terrace.
Turtles carry their homes, marked
and shaped, cracked refuge; home
is within the carapace of the heart,
the bowing of head, the bringing
of hands together in prayer. I come
to the one place I know, I belong.
Marie-Elizabeth Mali lives in New York City and Housatonic, MA. Prior to
focusing more exclusively on poetry, she was a licensed acupuncturist and life
coach. Her work has appeared in The 2River View.
focusing more exclusively on poetry, she was a licensed acupuncturist and life
coach. Her work has appeared in The 2River View.
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