Kate Northrop

Here you will find thePoemHidingof poet Kate Northrop

Hiding

—to my sister Because the moon in late October made landmarks glow: the broken gate, our yard full of stones, the attic window suddenly foreign, across its face a blue dissolve. In spite of that, the farm remained an arrangement (barn behind the house, pond across the road) and a girl sometimes feels torn. We turned our dresses inside out, ran into a grove. We played you're blind, Molly, try to find me. It was a family game: get left in darkness. I climbed up into the oak, listened for your voice until my name became a sound from the other side, from the poor order of the world. I came back because I had to. And believe me, you who are fragile and so faithful, I hated to return materializing through trees.