Always in the margins it is sleeting
shades of diagonal blue that must be
driven through to reach home. Wipers speeding
my pulse pledges its red to Ariadne,
weaver of the way in and out.

The logs in my field at sunset have become
a dark nucleus, a catacomb
of maps that leads to itself, a memory
of what to love, and how. Remembering,

Ariadne’s thread leaves my mouth
in unclouded sentences, paves a road
between my place and yours, a certain vow
that I cry out to you in the driving rain:
the promise of arriving home again.

~ Julie Robinson

Julie C. Robinson is an Edmonton poet, wife and mother. Inspiration for her poetry comes mostly from pondering what it means to be human. Among her poetic influences are Gwendolyn Macewen and Irving Layton and many contemporary Edmonton poets. She has published in Descant, Other Voices, Contemporary Verse II, and Eyeing the Magpie.

Leave a Reply