Palea

I knew a house
In the woods--
By the river and
Not far from
Foggy mountains.
Sage shutters
Banging in the
Coming storm--
Eternity in
All the chronicles
Of spiders and
Their cobwebs.
I knew a face
Much shorter
So much softer
Than mine.
A woman on
The tall stairs--
Wrapped in chiffon
Cream white.
I knew a room
Full of dolls
With kind eyes
Glass, glossy--
Painted by the
Warm evening.
Comfortable world
Passive heart
Bare feet on the
Dream-pink carpet.
I knew a house
Out of reach
Down the glade
And across
The night sky.

Reviews

[Vol]

Anna,
Two titles in a row of words I had to look up! That rarely happens and impresses the hell out of me.
I have long said, "The image is the message," The House, The Face, The Room... The unattainable things we run across that no one knows about but haunt us in quiet moments. I've been in that house, seen that woman on the stair, and tumbled toys in the cobwebs, and looked across the night sky for answers.
Vol

[Anna]

Thank you! In this poem, 'Palea' is a woman's name.

[Vol]

Anna,
Hahaha... I'm using the new search engine, Perplexity, so that's how I came up with my response. Still, though, I stand by my reaction to this excellent poem.
Vol

[Anna]

Thanks so much!