Implacable; Sage

From the collection Picture Making, published 2017. The three photos served as the inspiration for the poem. For more information, look here.

As a note, I did two poems from these photos – couldn’t seem to make them go into one piece. Sometimes that happens.


I am hard. I am straight lines and sharp points.
You bet you know
who I am
when you touch your finger to my edge
and it bleeds. I hurt your feelings in so many ways.
You recognize your own face in my shiny-surfaced smile.
You see your own initials stamped on my hand.
I tell you
what you don’t want to hear
What you have locked up, double-locked, triple-locked,
what you wanted to store behind the rotting wood door
covered in peeling white paint. I know your secrets
I keep your secrets.



You tell me everything
even when you are
hollowed out by age
your leaves are sparse
and some branches
have none at all.


11 thoughts on “Implacable; Sage

      • I don’t necessarily believe all secrets need to be revealed either but I think the holder of the secrets should find a way to healthily process them and package them away rather than having them sit and fester or otherwise cause harm.

        • If it’s possible. I have learned there are some problems that cannot be resolved and secrets can fall into that category, too. There is a kind of suspension, yes, but not resolution.

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