Poetry by Amy Murre

Rock Wool

Came in caring. Weeping. Shaved bare.
In the foreground, fog.
Where we’re headed, some sort of temple.
In the script, always, some form of travel.

Running: for the running, a sinew.
For the sinew, a bone.

Go in listening. Longing to speak.
There is, perhaps, nothing to communicate.
For all the fingertips in the world, a cacophony.
In all the wailing, white noise.

Battery colder than wind or the rain.
Hail capable of bruising the flesh.

For all exposure, insulation. For the noise, a filter.
For the fire, a wall.
In the cold stone, air.