Sherry Shahan lives in a laid-back beach town in California where she grows carrot tops in ice cube trays for pesto. Her writing has appeared in Critical Read, Progenitor, F(r)iction, Exposition Review, Confrontation and is forthcoming from Fiddlehead, Hippocampus and elsewhere. She holds an MFA from Vermont College of Fine Arts.
How can I begin anything new
with all of yesterday in me? ~ Leonard Cohen
Radish tops sprout ruffles
in plastic ice cube trays,
set upon a windowsill
by tins of ginger flowers.
Children are the heroes
bathed in seaweed from the harbor,
sharing salty fish and oranges
with wizards and Siddhartha.
And I want to dance with Marianne
among lilacs and in heartbreak.
And I want to dance with Leonard
beneath pigeons on telephone wires.
But all of that is gone now.
So I dance in cardboard boxes,
sinking in the soil of my mind.
Gypsy boys toss tea leaves.
The sun bakes Monday bread.
Shipwrecked girls are shackled
in flames of Anima Sola.
And I want to dance with Marianne
in rags from thrift store closets.
And I want to dance with Leonard
in his lonely timber tower.
But all of that is gone now.
So I dance in cardboard boxes,
sinking in the soil like a stone.
~
Poetry in this post: © Sherry Shahan
Published with the permission of Sherry Shahan