Carole Greenfield By Carole Greenfield
A covenant, we called it. Something to enter.
I stepped over that threshold as I would edge
my way onto an unfamiliar craft.
He knew all about the tying of knots.
Anchor. Figure-of-eight. Inside clinch.
I worked them loose and formed another kind,
ones I needed for my journey.
Half hitch. Throat seizing. Thief.
Some promises slip free no matter how tight the fastens,
secure the hold.
Carole Greenfield grew up in Colombia and lives in Massachusetts. Her work has appeared in Beltway Poetry Quarterly, Sky Island Journal, Glacial Hills Review, and Sparks of Calliope, among others.
Why we chose this piece: The premise of this poem is so simple yet unique, and that ending is a showstopper. Overall, we really connected with the voice, rhythm, and imagery in this piece.
