Poem – The Snail

Poem - The Snail
2017-04-20 20:05


The snail, a mouth hanging out its door

split into dreaming and living houses

my cage blown by the glassblower

I was a fool

was spun around and around

Out spills the rubber of the inner life

tenderness supped

on the strong broth of resentment

coughed through my nose

fed to me spoonful

after spoonful

then I was roasted into glass

so I could carry a facade

to shelter the soft spots

respectability turns opaque

my home, a work of art-hurt

rage-marbled wearing it on my back

moonbeam coiled

all this weight

glistening from sorrow

as I move

and carry

my heart-bone grail.


copyright Mary Winslow 2016