​Alice, by the Fireplace, by Nadine Ellsworth-Moran

Alice (Sit-by-the-fire), by Lilian Westcott Hale (USA) 1925

​Alice, by the Fireplace
 
Six impossible things are buried in ashes
spilling onto hearth, cold at your feet,
 
they wait for you to move your patent leather shoe, 
push aside the grey.  But you are held in symmetry,
 
walls and mantle, two particular vases, 
beneath two particular sconces, a painting
 
of two ambiguous forms, all of no particular
import.  Alice, why watch a burning log--
 
where has your muchness gone?   There are
jabberwocks to slay, tea rituals to perform,
 
Hatter’s lost his hats, croquet lawns
lie forlorn.  Alice, listen to the mice
 
whispering in the wall, you’re a conqueror
in striped socks and pinafore, it’s you--
 
you who are so much more than ever
imagined sitting by the fire. Impossible
 
things are waiting, Alice, 
the rabbit’s at the door.

Nadine Ellsworth-Moran
​
Nadine Ellsworth-Moran lives in Georgia where she works in full-time ministry while pursuing her love of writing. She has degrees in Political Science, European Studies, Christian Education, and Divinity, which makes her both informed and confused at the same time.  She loves obscure references and Far Side cartoons even if they aren’t published anymore.  Her essays and poems have appeared in a variety of journals and she’s always interested in exploring new forms. She lives with her husband and five unrepentant cats.