My head’s a snow dome,
thoughts like swirling flakes
of plastic snow whiting out
my little cottage of sleep:
the fir tree, the wood pile,
the chimney with its stiff
wisp of smoke. Who keeps
shaking this thing?
Make it stop! Let it settle,
let me shovel clear the door,
let me enter my dreams
before my door’s forever
barred to me and sleep’s
a condemned building
I’m not allowed to enter.
is the author of the chapbook The Belly Remembers and two full-length volumes of poetry, Wild Domestic and Moraine, all published by Pearl Editions. Her most recent chapbook, On the Fault Line, was released in March by Picture Show Press. Her full-length poetry collection Morpheus Dips His Oar is forthcoming from Sheila-Na-Gig Editions. Her work has appeared in Chiron Review, The Worcester Review, A Year of Being Here, ONE ART, The Writer’s Almanac, and many other publications.
A swimmer, dog lover, and native of the southern California desert, Ms. Madison has recently retired from teaching English and French in a Los Angeles high school. Read more about her at:
https://tamaramadisonpoetry.com
