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Monday, April 16, 2018


 The Woman with Full Immunity

Watch for them. Faint as aspen, peeled as birch,
walking the edge of the field raw. 
You should start to see remote women

flickering in the distance,
their smiles more flickering
inside the flickering. It isn’t hard to find them,
but once you do, don’t believe them.
Confessing is just a big part of their drama.
On the other hand, 
don't we all know someone pale and drawn out 
from coming back so many times,
someone worn thin 
from having to turn into the thread
that turns into the rope that turns into the river
that leads her out of the fire she may have started?
It was supposed to be fragrant 
and perrenial like blossoming. Their returning. 
It was supposed to be copious 
and make you reach for a wide jug hoping 
to catch it all. 

Come back, that's what these women do.
They climb out of oval frames hung on walls.
They use every page as their own little ladders.

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