Image for the poem Molave

Molave's Secret

Molave flows into hammers then hands    
and shoulders of bridges and railroad ties,
a hardwood chosen for forever.
Light gold in interlocking stripes swarming    
the expanse of beds and dining tables,    
around torsos of heavy furniture    
but it shivers when the day changes,    
complains with loud reports --barks!    
plate tectonics in timber stirring me    
in the dark, insinuating into dreams,    
in sleep already distressed, like gunshots    
in the night but inside the bedroom.    
Impenetrable to rot and decay,    
legendary, dependable and dauntless,    
arms akimbo by day, crying at night.
Written by Alviola
Published | Edited 20th Sep 2023
Author's Note
Author's bedroom
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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