Poetry Porch: Poetry


By Frannie Lindsay

Build me a makeshift sister
use the most destitute Februaries
tie round her hips a willowsnap skirt
unskip two pond stones
for her wanderless feet
ghost her heart where a flown owl
once set up house for its hooing
fashion her hands from
the sumac leaves’ hiss
on the fenced edge of ramshackle
assign to her lips the last red
from the palette of poison
gather the alley’s broken-night
glass for her eyes
twist into her raggedy hair
the threshed weeds fallen away from
the gardener’s ache-fingered tending
then warn her
an impromptu woman like this
clutching her pretty basket
leaving her trail of who-cares-what
must steady herself against
the feral and ravenous winds against
all the dispassionate creatures
rattling awake whenever
I say so

Copyright © 2014 by Frannie Lindsay.