Front Porch Review
Can I mold ashes into furniture,
allow myself to rest
amid the burned-out ruins
of my heart?
Can I lay fresh linen
over the green grave of wishes,
set out the bread and gleaming honey
and fruits of summer?
Can I ungrip the last evil thing done to me
and let it scatter to sky
like a flock of seabirds seeking home?
Sometimes a question floats
high as a prayer, trailing blossoms
Sometimes, the asking is
Elizabeth L. Merrick lives in Somerville, Massachusetts with her husband. Her poetry has appeared in Green Hills Literary Lantern, Midwest Poetry Review and elsewhere. A health services researcher and clinical social worker by training, she has also published a guidebook on Boston’s historic house museums.