You descend the window ledge, a flower on the wall, star anise trailing spiced mahogany stems. You find sanctuary in my book and paper mess, seek heat from the CPU, water from our leaky washer. I imagine the sac you’ll weave, tucked in some corner of the room. You are the universe giving birth to the spinning stars. Sometimes I am a spider in the bathtub my many slipping limbs finding no purchase in the slick porcelain of a day. Only then do I forget to dust remember not to sweep too thoroughly, to gather life in my fingers, lift it quivering to the open window.__________________________________________________________
Ronda Broatch is the author of Some Other Eden (Finishing Line Press, 2005.)
Recent poems have, or will appear in Atlanta Review, Crab Creek, Diner, Calyx,
and Pebble Lake Review. Ronda is a Pushcart nominee, and the recipient of the
2005 Kay Snow Poetry Award. She has twice been a Soapstone resident, and
has been known to dance in church.