Charles Fishman
Bishnupada Ray
Geraldine Green
Rob Frail
Tammy Nuzzo-Morgan

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Issue 47/48 : January - June 2010 : Volume 12 No 3/4

    Geraldine Green

    Now I Am in Love

    with frozen beach grass
    the way it curves
    above my head as
    i crouch below
    the way each
    slender finger bends
    before dipping

    to scratch
    the itch of
    frozen sand

    i am learning
    how cold each night is
    as i read the light
    through pink
    dim blue
    and sulphur
    siberian winds paint this land
    a different color.

    Each Night in My Dreams I Am Vigilant to Mountains

    cold air swallows me. i am
    its communion.

    i start each day by riddling ashes. if i was a witch i'd scry
    the future in the pattern of cinders. but i am not a witch—
    i am a woman. i carry an ashpan outside, spread cinders
    onto the road. as if i can control siberian winds! i cannot.
    at least i can watch them for signs.

    like snow-wracked skiddaw watches me, over my right
    shoulder. i don't think a mountain knows what a woman
    may dream. but i do know a mountain that follows every
    move that i make. this is why, each night in my dreams,
    i am vigilant to mountains.


    may your last vision be a bloodred shimmer of light on distilled water
    may you live in a land of pine cones and amber
    may your days be as long as a broom handle your eyes as sharp as a needle
    your arms as long as need be to reach out over oceans
    may you always have shade in summer for hot days in the garden
    may roses be the flower you water
    may the boat you choose be as sturdy as a turtle shell
    may the island you give birth to be as fantastic as jupiter!
    may the sword of damocles never hang over your head
    may the breath you blow come straight off the himalaya
    and may the animal in you breed strong women strong enough
    to carry fierce children in their wombs. may the horse you ride on
    be the blue as the heavens you inhabit may the chariot of gods
    always be wrapped in the curl of your hair and the instinctive
    rituals you practice remain on beach mountain rocks and water
    may the street you walk on never trip you up
    may your legs be as strong as tomorrow!
    may you swim to venus doing the butterfly crawl
    and the first starry planet that falls in the leonids fall in the skies
    above your head as you look up waiting for the moon to roll
    and rest her sweet weight on the palm of your hand as you hold
    the child you fathered gently may the baby
    whose face looks up into your own
    remind you of your roots.


Shabdaguchha, an International Bilingual Poetry Journal, edited by Hassanal Abdullah