Holed Up - Believer Magazine
header-image

Holed Up

Rosalie Moffett
Facebook icon Share via Facebook Twitter icon Share via Twitter
Finally, the mint is up. My small ambit
of yard. Monitoring its progress. 
The azalea has a few tightly furled pinks
like napkins twisted in a lap 


anxiously below the dinner table.  
As a child, I reveled in that territory:
under the table, in the legs. Or the secret 
core of the circular rack of shirts


in the thrift store, unintentional fort. 
The news says stock up, hole up,make a fort 
within the fort of the town within the state, little cloth 
fort around the mouth and so forth. And inside


the mind, another fort of looking
at the mint.
More Reads
Poetry

Casting Call

Keith Leonard
Poetry

Trilogy of Doubt

Sharon Dolin
Poetry

Blood and Soil

Jason Schneiderman
More