Cabin

Kristin Camitta Zimet

Pencil in fist, the boy glares at a fog
white tablet. No stick horses whinny there,
lopsided on the grass they say to scribble. No
lollipop daddies dance. No loopy suns.
Only one picture wants to draw itself.
It comes again: the cabin. Smoke, stroking
gray fingers into pines. Lake silver with chill.
He shivers and dives. Waves embrace his head,
blanking the schoolroom. His toes sink in silt.

Where it is, this home his hand insists on,
nobody tells him. After a while they stop
demanding that he draw. In his seventies
he picks up a Nikon: polarizing filters,
shutters that linger open, stutter closed
in high-speed bursts. But his heart is not 
reflected in the glossy surfaces, their slick
apparitions. He thinks of taking off, Canada
perhaps, anywhere there are pines.


Kristin Camitta Zimet is the author of Take in My Arms the Dark, a full length collection of poems. She is the long-time editor of The Sow’s Ear Poetry Review. Published in a great many journals, she also is a visual artist creating surreal photographs and co-creator of a poetry performance troupe. Her newest manuscript juxtaposes archetypal voices from Torah.

%d bloggers like this:
search previous next tag category expand menu location phone mail time cart zoom edit close