- Cold Comfort to Doom
No crops to sow. No shocks. No cobs, no corn'sdown floss. No cock's crow. No storms
to grow. No cool to morn. No blood to spot; no flocksof cotton bolls to lop. No flocks. No loons,
no motmots, no crows. No brook to ford, no floodto drown: no ghost woods. No clots
of snow. No cordwood to stow. No moss. No north.No woods. No fork not to follow: no Frost.
No Wordsworth. No Woolworth's. No worthto show. No stockroom's goods to sort—top-notch,
so-so: no town blocks to loot. No mob. No loss. No doorto lock. No room to mop. No door. No room. No ghost
to spoon. No slow songs, dolor-thrown: no sobs.No throngs, no boss. No cooks to bog
the broth. No roots. No roost. No owls, no storks,no coots. No fox. No coop. No slop
to toss. No hot blood to cool, no coldto school. No cool cloth. No pods' slow bloom
to moths. No hopscotch, no workbook. No pompoms,no hotshot jocks, no proms. No rock. No roll. No knoll
to mow. No boom-box to boost, no rooftop croon—noroofs. No horns to toot. No blow. No stock
to prod, no cows' long low. No portfor fools, no storm-shook moon: no months [End Page 141]
of monsoons. No ghost not grown. No trolls. No goldnot to own. No torts, no pro bono work: no job
lost. No to, no from. No mood control. No too hotfor wool. No too smog for sport. No cogs, no
logs to roll. No foothold lost. No hook, no crook:no dog. No wolf. No clop of hoofs, no boom
of boots: no door to knock. No clock. No good oddsto blow. No vows—no slow morph to dolls
of drool. No broth to cool. No bowl. No spoon.No food for gods, for ghosts. No food
for compost. No worms to sod. No woodwork'sbox. No plot to own. No tooth to sow, no sooth
to toll: no torso. No blogs to scroll. No goodbook to gloss. No on, no off. No wrong,
no not. No too hot to trot. No cold cock. No who.No whom. No thorn of moon. No London fog, no horns
on loop. No Boston snow to slog. No stoop. No Oz,no om, no O2 lost. No no-show good god
to cross. No crown. No thorns. No tockfrom womb to tomb. No slow
soft rot. No blood to own. No bomb not goodto go. No shock. No glow. No
blossom blown. No good world nownot flown. [End Page 142]
SANDRA MEEK has published six books of poems, including Still, forthcoming from Persea in January 2020, An Ecology of Elsewhere, Road Scatter, and the Dorset Prize–winning Biogeography. Recipient of an NEA Fellowship in Poetry, the Poetry Society of America's Lucille Medwick Memorial Award, three Georgia Author of the Year awards, and two Peace Corps Writers awards, she teaches at Berry College.