by Jamie Weil | Poetry | Fall 2019
take that tranquility, there,
that heat before the clothes are folded
that makes the cold air sweeter.
take it into your arms unfurled take me
into your arms, that tranquility
that weakness upon waking,
not knowing where you are,
but knowing
that heat before you touch the floor, before
you are unfolded, recklessly,
in a rush to make amends with the morning.
into your arms again
and again
that weakness upon waking from a dream
of folding clothes early in winter.
tranquility, take me
so that i may know the bittersweetness
in taking.
Wilder Voice Magazine 