as black as Cerberus asleep—can frame
a vision of the roof of hell we walk.
Like you, I’ve fallen through so many times,
down to the rafters. Madman in the attic.
Fish-boil of the mermaids in the basement.
Got my wings singed, cracked my singing. Pages
written: kindling for my auto-da-fé.
But in the coven of my mother’s house,
I thrived in light and shade. I had my father
and my father’s name. Those myths and maps.
In milk, in smoke, in lamplight and the daylit
mirror, fate and I remade and still
remake me: broken, whole, rebroken, healed.
--
Thomas Zimmerman (he/him) teaches English, directs the Writing Center, and edits The Big Windows Review https://thebigwindowsreview.com/ at Washtenaw Community College, in Ann Arbor, Michigan, USA. His poems have appeared recently in dadakuku, Grand Little Things, and The Minison Zine. His latest book is Dead Man's Quintet (Cyberwit, 2023). https:/thomaszimmerman.wordpress.com Twitter: @bwr_tom IG: tzman2012 FB: Tom.Zimmerman.315