Poem 85: Upstart

Twisted, like softly-plied 

Wool in your fingers,

The points of your needles

Find all the right loops--

Twisted, and wrapped, and

Pulled through and knotted,

Then folded, forgotten, in

A cupboard to which you've

Long since lost the key.

Resting in darkness, with

Others who kept you 

Warm, no harm done, no

Storm damage

From tempests that once

Rose like fury between us,

Erupting in downpours

Of unspoken words.

But what seemed safe,

Now is not, and my rest is

The refuge of disused and

Misplaced loves, faces forgotten, 

Our voices unknown.

You save face, we trail 

Into the forest, and comfort 

Each other with tales

Of our fortune and 

Harrowing escapes

From your upstart heart.

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six

Poem 85: Upstart