the exile
in her prison cell
scratching poems
on a bar of soap . . .
bubbles rise to the moon
(for Irina Ratushinskaya, Russian poet & dissident)
scribbling
faint words to address
the infinite —
I pluck one thread
in the harp of stars
~Skylark 2:2, winter 2014
Great work, Jenny. Love these.
ReplyDeleteAnd I like how so many of your poems link together, even when you're not intentionally writing a sequence.
Thanks, Janet!
ReplyDelete