No Safe Place

No Safe Place

by Glenda Beall

I check the locks, front door, glass doors downstairs.
I’m beginning to remember your ritual every night.
You, the man I trusted to keep us safe in this,
our house, our bed. With you slumbering beside me,
you’d hear what we should fear before I was aware.
You’d know what to do, and you would use a gun if necessary.
Your pistol still lies in the bedside drawer.
The old dog, hearing worse than mine,
snores on our bed. Awake, alone
at three a.m., I fear no stranger lurking in the dark.
No firearm, locks or barking dog can save me
from the endless grief that stalks me in this house.

Bio:

Founder of Coffee with the Poets and the Writers Circle, Glenda Beall is the author of Now Might As Well Be Then.  She lives in Hayesville, NC.

5 thoughts on “No Safe Place

  1. The beauty of the rhythm of these lines blends exquisitely with the raw directness of the total poem. Glenda, I salute you.

  2. You are so open with your feelings and write beautifully. I can relate to this poem. It packs a punch in such a precise way.

  3. Hi Karen and Joan,
    Sorry to be so long in responding. I appreciate very much your comments. Knowing that we all have so much in common, I am glad you relate to this poem. It does speak of my deepest feelings, Karen. I think I am learning how to share them.

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