i.
The nautilus goes ‘round. I am not inside
the violet’s reclining head.
ii.
A tied blue bed. This may be how Poe slept.
Taut ropes, tension below. In a telltale heart,
the floorboards squeak.
iii.
Lady slipper pink, white birch twig.
Music box ballerina, spins, spins, spins.
iv.
A guard passes between galleries.
v.
Dovecote: a vertical eclipse, black and white rows—25 one-inch holes.
vi.
From which of these did he depart?
Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 16, Issue 2.
Amie Keddy is a writer and artist whose poems have appeared in several print and online publications. Her chapbook, The Glow of Everyday Objects, won Finishing Line Press’ New Women’s Voices Prize in 2006 and was nominated for a Pushcart Prize. She recently completed a full-length book of poems, Almost Romantic.
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