Labyrinth Where does the labyrinth end? There is a single entrance and exit. Grass peeks through the cracked moss stones-- It knows the soles of my feet, The way my mother memorized my warm breath against her neck. Where does the labyrinth end? Dragonflies and sparrows hide in the hedges, Whispering to the fog, null chatter. They know the hollows of my thoughts-- My inability to pilot blind alleys, wandering in circles searching for a center. Where does the labyrinth end? Your rings and spirals bring me to slay dark demons— Palms up, unable to see sky.
Susan Cossette is the author of Peggy Sue Messed Up (2017). A two-time recipient of the University of Connecticut’s Wallace Stevens Poetry Prize, her work has appeared in Rust and Moth, Clockwise Cat, Anti-Heroin Chic, and in the anthologies Tuesdays at Curley’s and After the Equinox.
Amethyst Review 