The Open Door
~ Elizabeth Coatsworth
Out of the dark
to the sill of the door
lay the snow in a long
unruffled floor,
and the lamplight fell
narrow and thin
a carpet unrolled
for the cat to walk in.
Slowly, smoothly,
black as the night,
with paws unseen
(white upon white)
like a queen who walks
down a corridor
the black cat paced
that cold smooth floor,
and left behind her,
bead upon bead,
the track of small feet
like dark fern seed.
Here is the coding if you want a button with a link to this week's round-up.
:: this post is part of the Friday Poetry roundup hosted by A Year of Reading.
poetry
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