The Cottage

I’ve grown quiet here. My mind
has opened to woodsong
and the smell of earth turned
by a trowel.

I enjoy solitude, even when regrets
or the throb of an old lover happen by.
Sometimes I invite them in, make
a ritual of teacups on starched linen,
a silver server for the scones.
We reminisce ’til shadows trace
across the floor, call them away.

Afterwards, I tidy up, wipe away
drops spilled in the pouring. I save
the leftovers though they’re getting stale.
I may crumble them on the porch rail
tomorrow for sparrows
before I garden.

 

 

About the Poet:
Sarah Russell has returned to poetry after a career teaching, writing and editing academic prose. She has over 80 poems published in Kentucky Review, Red River Review, Misfit Magazine, Shot Glass Journal, and many other journals and anthologies.  Her poetry has won contests through both Goodreads and Poetry Nook, and she has been a featured poet at Days of Stone and The Houseboat.  She blogs at SarahRussellPoetry.net

 

 

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