in your words
i am lace.
prisms of snowflake
allusions
melt this frigid
alone.
the metaphor moon
illumes
our tender desperation.
two turtledoves
alight in
breath and breast
a quiver of image
immemorial.
The palming of a dazed sparrow
evokes
kindred recognition of
precipice quiverings.
One finger travels
light years
of vulnerable, wanting
cheek.
In the fires of practicality
gelatinous time
melts, molts,
puddles, streams.
Let eyes unclose
and lips engorge.
Let now
Be now.
Constance Stadler has been writing, publishing, and editing poetry from the 'prehistoric' epoch of print journals to modern e-times. She was a former editor of South and West and is currently a contributing editor to the e-zine Eviscerator Heaven. Her most recent work appears in Ditch, ken*again, Pen Himalaya, Rain Over Bouville, Clockwise Cat, Hanging Moss, Neonbeam, and Gloom Cupboard. As a political anthropologist specializing in North Africa and a violinist, her influences are multiform. Work in formative years with the late poet Gwendolyn Brooks was seminal, but so was Sufi Dervish dancers, and the challenges of mastering Bruch's first concerto.
Comments (closed)
Newamba Flamingo
2010-03-03 22:00:00
You're a master, black belt, kung fu ninja of poetry, Connie. Respect.