Poetry Month

Into My Private Silence // Adrienne Asher

Into my private silence
I throw crows and branches,
moon’s rising,
bleached summer hills.
There is a reason
some say she’s a poet;
it’s not what you think.
At the center of all things is a spark.
Brief and bright,
it starts the song, moves the dance,
unfurls words,
splashes color.
Its quick whisper shimmers
just below the surface,
sudden as a raven’s laugh,
swift as an overflowing stream.
Understand, I do not catch it,
lucky even if I catch a glimpse.
But still, she is my elusive muse:
the glimmer at the heart of life.