blog of poet, leah umansky

When the stove called to the kettle, she clicked         [send]

She waited to [reply] but was cautioned that [home] was down a long dark path; where the [end] was dark and the trees [shift]-ed in their claim for light.  Where the wolf [cntrl]-ed the beckoning of good in the woods and she felt she should [esc] She [backspace]d herself into something lyrical. Dreaming of another person; an action of living and [enter]-ed the house by the stream where she felt founded and felt safe, there, in that sweet-mulled and [scroll]-ing place beneath the [alt]-ernate sky.

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© Umansky 2012