Thought hands a world to you
separate as a head on a platter.
But shuffle awhile
through damp new grass
and warm wood chips,
stumble over errant rocks,
pocket a few illicit pine cones,
recreate scenes of
soaked papier-mâché drying,
skewer miniscule starchy
sugar lumps on sticks and sear
over charcoal fires, or
cook a few squashed
indecipherable meat patties
over propane until
severed images recede.
Now will become as then
when right hand and left hand
were joined at the spine.
—
Karin L. Frank’s poems have been published in various literary journals, such as the Rockhurst Review, the Mid-America Poetry Review, the North Dakota Quarterly and New Letters and in various science fiction venues, such as Asimov’s and Tales of the Talisman. No matter the genre, her poems speak women’s voices.
The Zingara Project 