on the wall
those shadows so much larger
than our problems
*
in the frost
on the window she writes
her name
*
recalling all those
prayers
I never learned
*
like a worm in kale,
something nibbling
all night on her dreams
*
air, snow, shadow, wind
she loses any names
she has been given
i especially like the closing two. ; although your first one does contain a needful moral—dare i say the shadows might also be more substantial than our problems? and about those prayers: are we wishing, now, we HAD learnt them? have they become suddenly handy? (and do we ever learn thoroughly enough prayers of thanksgiving?)
“(Something) Nibbling All Night on Her Dreams”
Lookit, there—the title of your soon-to-be-upcoming poetry collection.
Merci beaucoup, for the five-course Christmas poetry present!
The first one is a gem, and certainly a namesake for the title of the piece. That worm of course is attractive too, though it surely does put me off my dream feed:>)