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October 11, 2007

Night Opens A Door

by Pat McCutcheon

Night opens a door into a cellar--
you can smell it coming
--William Stafford “Sayings of the Blind”

       

Damp folds of darkness,
          in the grip of last October’s onions
          wrap around you.
Cool rot of mildewing mistakes
          hidden under folded feed sacks.
Thick stink of tainted trust seeps 
from bulging lids on Mason jars.
This is the home of broken things: 
bikes, a washer, your word.
Rusted.  Past fixing.
Over your shoulder, spores rise, scatter on creaking stairs.
Pale stars dot a rectangle of sky .
Night hovers, tang rising
          from Pippins, Winesaps, Delicious,
          tonic as coming clean.

-- Pat McCutcheon

COVER STORY  |  IN THE NEWS   |  OFF THE PAVEMENT
POEM  |  IN REVIEW  |  GARLICK'S NOTEBOOK  |  MOVIES
TALK OF THE TABLE  |  THE HUM  |  CALENDAR

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