Monday May 27

Witte Poetry Francine Witte is the author of four poetry chapbooks and two flash fiction chapbooks. Her full-length poetry collection, Café Crazy, has recently been published by Kelsay Books. She is reviewer, blogger, and photographer. She is a former English teacher. She lives in NYC.

I was a thing in the house’s mouth,

a tongue moving, saying the words
of the house. I told the outside
world what the house wanted most;

food, peace and sleep. Later,
when I left the house, I took mostly
memories of floors and wall, polished
wood and earth-tone paint. But every

now and then, I would think about
something I did or said, tiny movement,
a ruffle of covers, a pot simmering
on the stove, or something else

the house wouldn’t have
had, if it weren’t for me.

The Law of Circles

says that everything goes round
and round. Time, the earth,

my life. That I will end up
exactly where I started, energy

floating above the earth’s subtle
curve. More circles – love and hunger

and even the seasons. How spring
comes back each year. And then

there’s you. I think about the way
we meet, the roundness of your touch.

Those times I’m a tiny tree budding again,
forgetting the winter for now. But then,

you go away, and there’s loneliness
folding me into its arms. This would

be the time to remember that pain
is just a point on a circumference

and that, in time, the good part of love
returns. But even if I were

to remember, it’s still the law
of circles, that, in time, I would, again, forget.