Dena Rash Guzman of Unshod Quills on America

2011/09/14 § Leave a comment

salt box house

I’m wood-clad, weathered
gray by snow and sun. The lights
inside my stories flicker as the moon
calls and departs, full or waning -
phases little matter, matter little
to hours creeping through
the rooms which define and redefine
by fashion and function my trusses,
my mortise-and-tenon joints.

The architecture of nothing nailed,
of metal shanks not present, solid
and creaking all at once; simple
and stoic, I populate
my space in time as only something
purely necessary will. Leaning near
a copse of trees, I cover and nurture
my humans, my spanning generations.
They creep from cradle to rocking chair
here beneath my hand hewn beams,
crafted to last beyond the end of a
hammer’s ring,  until after
the end of fleshly
pleasures, of love, or loss. I decay
over decades but hold.

Author Biography

Dena Rash Guzman is a writer. She edits Unshod Quills.

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