Poem-A-Day: Joan Houlihan, RAG SMELL. FIRE

	August 10, 2012 Today's poem is copyright © 2012 by Joan Houlihan. Used with permission of the author. More from this author Other Houlihan Poems H. Antecessor Turn of a Year Can Poets Teach?: On Writers Teaching Writing You can unsubscribe from our Poem-A-Day emails at at anytime—either completely, or until next April. Academy of American Poets 75 Maiden Lane Suite 901 New York, NY 10038 212-274-0343 academy@poets.org		RAG SMELL. FIRE by Joan Houlihan RAG SMELL.  FIRE smell.  Bed blacked.  Bowl. The quiet come from living done. Shadow built the walls, holed and cribbed with light. Vine felt cracks and fingered in. Were sky inside and what the wind-holes left, a wind. Ay walk the last. What were floor heaves rock and root. Flame-eaten walls, rubs of wood, scraps the burn left licked now licked with dirt. Share Digg StumbleUpon Facebook E-mail to Friend