Passage

In the age of rising steel open me like a door

toward the orchard where ripe pears fall.

-Sohrab Sepehri

 

Slide the iron latches, turn my brass handle.

Walk through me when dusk dwindles

into deep indigo dyes. Forget your eyes

and feel for the frame, the last structure

before a garden assembles herself.

Here her fruit. There her flowers.

Her compost heap and spade.

Door is not a destination

and the moon is not helpful, so follow

night’s scent—salt, roses, duff and cedar.

 

 

Malisa Garlieb

Often employing myth, art, and nature, Malisa Garlieb writes personal histories while simultaneously unfolding archetypes. She is Poetry Editor for Mud Season Review. Her poems have appeared in Painted Bride Quarterly, Calyx, Tar River Poetry, RHINO Poetry, Rust + Moth, Blue Unicorn, Fourteen Hills, Sugar House Review, and elsewhere. Handing Out Apples in Eden is her first poetry collection, and there’s a second manuscript in the works. She’s also a mother, energy healer, and artist. Find her at malisagarlieb.com.