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Joannie Kervran Strangeland: When It Is Blue

May 11, 2011 by PBQ

First she found a lump no bigger than a pea
or a preposition—a small verb: to be.

The danger lies in conjugation
and the tenses—

is, are, would, could.
Will. She kept the will, a world.

I will, we will.
A synonym for tomorrow.

The shape of here is loss,
or a trade—flesh for life.

Her new body: built now for water—
sleek, streamlined—

a seal or a porpoise
(think of dolphins around the bow

as a schooner races along the coast
and the sails are full).

The wind makes a web on the water.
The body makes a plot.

The pain makes her tired. When
it is blue, the sky makes her sharp.

Filed Under: Contributors 82, Issue 82, Poetry, Poetry 82 Tagged With: Contributors 82, Joannie Kervran Strangeland, Poetry, Poetry 82

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