Aileen Lubold
On writing a poem

out of the foam
  emerges a beautifully naked thought

a few words
  splashed carelessly across a page

Seasons

time drips
  like honey
into the dip of my back
  sickly sweet

caramel dappled her face
  languid, droppy eyes
crystallized
into brittle, dry windowpanes

crackling chocolate kisses blown
  into a biting, sugar wind
cutting the palms of her hand

sweet cherry blossoms
  coated with honey
drip like time
into the dip of my back
  sickly sweet

<< Back to Issue 6, 2004