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:


Winter


                                    A basket sits center on the lawn.

Where are the fruits
             of snow?

                                   *

Open, shallow, concave

one by one she lifts them and defines
function—

                                   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.

3 comments:

Suzanne said...

(((blush)))

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*

xo

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.

-Hannah