Sunday, November 01, 2015

A Villanelle for Haymarket

(I left this in the kudos box before I left town.)

Bread and sweat and heart and stone
Flaking paint cannot conceal
Love that warms me to the bone.

All the tender hearts will groan:
what will this old house reveal?
Bread and sweat and heart and stone.

Sing out in crowd or all alone,
heat the oven, prepare the meal:
love that warms me to the bone.

Pots to wash and knives to hone;
there's nothing here that you could steal-
bread and sweat and heart and stone.

Sure as the flock of crows has flown
I carry it like coals that heal:
bread and sweat and heart and stone,
love that warms me to the bone.


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