The Scarlet Cupboard

I suppose this is a nod to both Emily Dickinson and Christina Rossetti. I have a predilection for small, slightly quirky, sing-songy poems that are conceits.


There is a scarlet cupboard
     Inside a scarlet room
Whose door is locked
And cracks are sealed:
     A silent, scarlet tomb.

It stands in silent penance
     While days and nights dance by
With lilting or
With ponderous step
     Till earthly time shall die.

Then will its door be opened
     And all its contents known;
The scarlet notes
And scarlet knots
     To judging eyes be shown.


© Leticia Austria 2007