Cathedral Minds

“changeful dreams” and “blackberrying”,

Fine tools for wak’ning verse.

The clouds that held Plath’s mammoth mind,

Were thin as Brontë’s skirt.

For Poe and Plath and Amherst’s Myth,

Society was born,

Where loneliness kept shut the gate,

to keep their heaven warm.

My narrow halls, cathedral in them.

My skies, a floor they’ve roamed.

But from beyond the gate Poe prays:

“all I lov’d—I lov’d alone—“

Photo by Nenad Spasojevic