The Seal on My Heart This All Soul’s Day
No trinket nests inside my bra, no metal impress
squishes into blood-red wax, not the otter’s
footprint in the river mud.
Neither ring, clasp, cartouche,
made visible as a jeweled chain
of grief or transient parchment of pain.
Come out of the night of wandering
and settle where I may give you warmth
bound in memory of a naked day
on a mountain full of golden weeds.
Tricia Knoll lives on the unceded land of the Abenaki people. In these thin times of morning fogs and obedient moons, she writes poetry. Her recent chapbook Checkered Mates is now available — poems of relationships that work and some that don’t.
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