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New Place by Rebecca Guest


The promise of newly painted walls lining empty
rooms, a kind of hubris that sings
up your arms, popping goosepimples of possibility

Moving and heaving and labor, the cutting open
of boxes that shine with sunlight through uncovered
windows, the floor clean for the last time

As chairs and bookshelves close gaps between
corners and doorways, you begin to recite a quiet conceit –
no harm or unhappiness could ever find you

not when these walls are so unfamiliar, these streets
so wide yawning forth to accommodate your feet
the air ringing with bells instead
of airplanes or that special brand of northeastern silence
you couldn’t believe you grew
so accustomed to

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About the author:

R. Claire Guest lives and writes poetry in Birmingham, Alabama. She has degrees in History, Philosophy, and American Studies. She’s still figuring out what she wants to be when she grows up. She hopes it involves vintage motorcycles.

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