Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Suzanne Frischkorn's Spring Tide

... is a wonderful and too-brief collection, but such is the nature of chapbooks. I've yet to read the other half, titled Inventing An Alphabet by Judith Valente, but (hoping it's okay with Suzanne) I wanted to include here my favorite from the collection:


                                    A basket sits center on the lawn.

Where are the fruits
             of snow?


Open, shallow, concave

one by one she lifts them and defines

                                   white to serve with, blue to hold.

You face a square of glass half-full
with winter light—a tattered leaf,

                                    an old oak. The sun outshines

the moon, again.


Now the prongs: to lift, to pitch, to pierce.

                                     A small yellow bowl.


You bring a peach to your mouth, bite deep—

its juice, a tributary,
gathers and puddles

            in the hollow of your neck.


In the kitchen your wife empties
the dishwasher without a shatter

            and you know she's leaving,

                                                 that she's not coming back.


Suzanne said...


What a lovely surprise this morning. Thank you, Simmons. May the publishing Gods hear your 'too brief' comment and pick up my full-length book. *lol*


Simmons B. Buntin said...

If the publishing gods are bloggers---and there's no reason to think they're not---I can't imagine they aren't listening...!

Hannah Craig said...

"too brief" -- I couldn't agree more.