from “The Mythology We Have Now”

Kathleen Jesme

15

“Click,” I said to the latch.

I knew where I was going

through the door and its apparatus.

The lock and latch, long time

between the closing and opening.

But I can’t remember

any thick of heat—it’s January

and the trees cast slant beasts

to the blank snow beneath,

limbs bewitched with twilight.

There are doors one stands before

and waits for ever.

Kathleen Jesme is the author of four collections of poetry: Meridian (Tupelo, 2012); The Plum-Stone Game (Ahsahta, 2009); Motherhouse, winner of the Lena-Miles Wever Todd Poetry Prize (LSU, 2005); and Fire Eater (Tampa, 2003). Jesme holds an MFA in creative writing from Warren Wilson College.