Abigail Otley, Out of Eden
Widows walk
Evenings she puts on her second-best hat
skewered by a tortoise shell pin,
buttons up her heart in her mohair coats and
goes out to pick a bone with the moon.
On the red-leaded step she scans the stars
imagines them sparks from his hammer.
Her heart is fierce and sharp as his chisel,
weighs like a bag of four inch nails.
In her pocket she’s packing a fistful of humbugs
matches, twenty Players Weights.
She hears the black kettle hissing on the stove on stand-by
the relentless ticking of the clock.
On her tongue, a retort fit to slice a man open.
In her head, a dozen what ifs.
Gopal Lahiri, Selected Poems
Conversation
The evening breezes
paddle me to the riverbank
face to face with the high tides.
Words vanish like Houdini when I need them.
The new grass opens its eyes.
Now nothing escapes, nothing enters—
the last light in the sky stands still
where questions of faith are answered.
The first rain, the first sin.
My conversation starts now.
It's not easy getting a book or pamphlet accepted for review these days. So in addition to the regular review section, the One Poem Review feature will allow more poets' to reach a wider audience - one poem featured from a new book/pamphlet along with a cover JPG and a link to the publisher's website. Contact the editor if you have released a book/pamphlet in the last twelve months or expect to have one published. Details here
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