Editor’s note: This month, we asked Minerva Rising contributors: What comforts you? Conversely, what doesn’t comfort you? Tell us what you find solace in, or what you’ve removed from your life.
A Reminder to Myself of What I Love
Slipping into an envelope
of clean sheets;
anything that goes
by the name of comforter;
dreams that outstay
waking’s whiteout;
snake wisdom
in letting go
of the outgrown;
a blank day;
bagels, doughnuts, anything
that says it’s OK
to be empty at its center;
moving out of the penthouse
of my head;
the alchemy of touch;
big weather;
twilight’s reprieve;
stargazer-breath;
the little engine
of morning coffee;
cappuccino jelly beans;
by the roadside,
a golden spill of daffodils;
a tree’s root and reach;
a mountain cabin beside
a singing creek;
the meditation of
an egret’s ellipse;
good manners;
blue cheese;
a squall’s heavy drapery
sweeping toward shore;
bursting from a tree,
a ragged scarf
of blackbirds.
***
Jane Ellen Glasser’s poetry has appeared in such journals as Georgia Review, Hudson Review and Virginia Quarterly Review. Her work has won numerous awards, including the Tampa Review Prize for Poetry for her book Light Persists, and the Poetica Publishing Award for her chapbook The Long Life. Her sixth collection, Cracks, is due out from FutureCycle Press in 2015.
