Issue 2:
Fire
Collette M. Davis
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Refining
"But who can endure the day of his coming?
…For he will be like a refiner’s fire or a launderer’s soap."
You sometimes seem to hail from Oz,
when hidden behind the shreds of your rent veil
you try to smelt the pieces of my cold heart.
I know I am loved in the perpetuity
of the hot breath of your smithy’s flame
and the twirling gray smoke. On top
of the anvil a stippled picture forms dot-by-dot,
invisible to close scrutiny,
still grossly unformed to the panoramic eye.
Your will pours out in billows -- faster than my
lungs can pull in a breath and shout Enough!
-- then you cease like an engine running
out of steam. During this short moment of rest,
I scream Why? How? What? about the finished piece.
Then your hammer again beats its clanging
rhythm; I bend in the furnace's heat.
~Collette M. Davis
Collette begins graduate school in the fall, working toward her master's degree in librarianship. Her poetry has previously been seen in Potpourri. Email.
© 1999 by Collette M. Davis. All Rights Reserved.
© 2000-2002 by Cayuse Press. All Rights Reserved.
This page updated April 23, 2002.