Learning to Pray for Your Solace

Even if I shook you, I know
I couldn’t knock loose the nest
where fear dwells like a crow.
 
I wish a flock of swallows.
 
In the middle of the city
there’s a forest where a path goes down—
a soft path where your feet make no sound.
 
I wish an open doorway.
 
You can reach into the mud and find
a round rock. You can rinse it in the river
and roll it from hand to hand.
 
Somewhere—can’t you hear it?—somewhere
a door opens. A door opens
and a flock of swallows flies through.
 
 
 
 
 

Carolyn Williams-Noren has poems appearing this year in Sugar House Review, Calyx, and Grist. In spring 2015, Dancing Girl Press will publish her chapbook, Small Animals. Carolyn is a 2014 winner of a McKnight Artist Fellowship, selected by Nikky Finney. More at williams-noren.com.