I never knew what total darkness was
until the night of the hurricane
with windows boarded up
Sadness comes in small increments
In the terrorist’s apartment
eggshells and onion skins
were all that remained
How to describe music
to a deaf person?
Cobblestones mark the spot where
the Berlin Wall used to be
In the parking lot
an old man tells an old woman
“Get out of my life”
Reading the line
in an Anne Sexton poem
We are made of stardust
Sand is the excrement of sea creatures
Fishing with my father—
he scrapes the scales
with the sharp-edged knife,
gives me the bladder balloon
Filling the big freezer in the den
where the jigsaw puzzles
are piled in one corner
How did you learn to cook, my mother asked,
not remembering our times together
in the kitchen
Thank-you for publishing Patricia’s work. She’s a stellar poet.
This is excellent!