Welcome back to the Daily Poem here in the Close Reeds Podcast Network. I'm David Kern. Today is

February 13th, 2020. And the poem that I'm going to read today is by a North Carolina-based poet

named Sally Thomas. I received a copy of her new book from April Muse Press called Motherland,

and I'm quite enjoying it. I've had the privilege of

publishing a poem or two by Sally in the former journal of which on the editor. So, you know,

when I got this volume of poetry, Motherland out this year in 2020, I was quite excited to dive into

it and kind of spend some time with a poet whose voice is quite

familiar. And this volume does not disappoint on that front. It's a lovely volume of poetry.

And there's a poem that I wanted to share with you. It's a great winter poem. It's called

Obscure Constellation in Winter. It's a new collection, and I wanted to

shut a little bit of light on it for you and let you know about it because I think it's worth

checking out, and this is one of the ones that I enjoyed from it. It goes like this.

Bear trees snagged the sunset now. No birds gather in the slanted light to call the evening in.

Graying, bald, it girds itself against itself.

At this hour, all the little varied fires you tried to start sink to embers.

Dirty dishes over sprawl your kitchen.

The whole house threatens to outsmart you again.

Today, on Rising, you made coffee.

You made the bed.

You meant to make an art of work.

A gift.

Felt nothing.

...