®

Today's poem is by Terese Coe

In the Lee of the Disaster

In the lee of the disaster
We sit and mourn a while,
And know that none is master;
Then walk another mile.

In the lee of the disaster,
The apple tree still blooms;
The halls of alabaster
Are ashes now, and tombs.

In the lee of the disaster
You called to me, so sane,
That could I come home faster,
I'd tread the poison plain.

Now there's disaster everywhere,
No windward and no lee —
It's all one Earth, and all one air,
And all one felony.

If you could be here when I rise
I'd give my bloodred coral —
Within your light-filled hazel eyes
Is all I need of laurel.



Copyright © 2003 Terese Coe All rights reserved
from The Formalist
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission

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