Pink Moon

The moon rose whole and glowing
like the light through a communication wafer,
just above Challenger,
the Sangres laid out like a jawbone,
teeth sawing at the sky,
sacrificial blood spilling the
sky screaming pink cutting through,
offering raised with both hands,
a dribble of red wine down your chin.

Pink Moon

Sonnet with Phrases from the Boy in the Striped Pajamas

Empty seats ringed in a pink glow,
lots of paper napkins and stack of sugar packets,
the click of the pump, and half of the flow,
the plastic burnt around the shining ratchets.

Sonnet with Phrases from the Boy in the Striped Pajamas

Burning

Something about fire but I guess it slipped away
I can feel it stuck, twisted just behind my heart
pulling hardest from my
neck pulsing with every breath.

Whatever it was that I forgot.

Burning

Writing with Lidia

The focus of the weekend workshop was exhausting metaphor. Lidia asked us what are our core metaphors, the ones that come up over and over again in our writing and conversation, what are the few lenses that we see life through? Are you always talking about digging deeper, going with the flow? Are you a politician who can’t stop declaring an intent to ram something through? ARE ALL OF YOUR POEMS ABOUT BIRDS?

Writing with Lidia
PoetrySally Seck

Snowmelt

The petals
falling, bitter, the
memory of snow sweet
together we were I
wish I didn’t but I do so
wish I could step back,
I wish I could trace
the muscle to the source
of the pain I wish I could
breathe into it instead
of away. This tremulous
balance, feeling of
underglow, this shaking
of bees.

PoetrySally Seck
Snowmelt
PoetrySally Seck

Was there a Monk on the Mountainside?

A flash of red behind on the slow
drive down the mountain into town.
I looked back and on the ledge
a shock of robes, a clear view
vision serene face of a monk
in slow moving meditation, the
pause of time, bright deep orange
against the shining marble face.

PoetrySally Seck
Was there a Monk on the Mountainside?
PoetrySally Seck

Night Swim

The night sky rolling low and cold
over my chest, my knees, my stomach, my
toes. My back melting into the hot pool
and over my sides, that sloshing
across the ribs lungs shaking above the surface.

PoetrySally Seck
Night Swim
PoetrySally Seck

Another Poem on Perspective

It hurts to see this
much it hurts to see
this far, valley stretching past scope.

PoetrySally Seck
Another Poem on Perspective