by Melanie Houle

We may aspire to cool tranquillity,
Setting temperate smiles against the storm
And steam of pressured days, but still we see
Our sculpted shells constrain a molten form.

Frozen in our centuries of harm
Is heat our every friction strains to free.
Compressed too close, we freeze and sound alarm
and burn rapprochement into entropy.

The laws of motion and of man agree:
Though bitterness and cold suspicion swarm,
Equal and opposite the force will be
When heart-fire sparks to light us, keep us warm.

© 2007 by Melanie Houle



About the Author

Melanie Houle is a physician and former jeweler. She is a Pushcart Prize nominee and The Raintown Review's first featured poet . Her poetry also appears in The Lyric, California Quarterly, The Aurorean, Neovictorian/ Cochlea, Tigerâ's Eye, Mobius, Pearl, Barefoot Muse, The HyperTexts, Journal of the American Medical Association and others.


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