Sonia
Halbach
Birth of a
Sappho
A martyr before I
could walk
on
water
or even walk at
all;
my baby blanket
was
threaded with
unearned praise
while those early
days
were glorified and
warm.
But had all those
givers
of myrrh and gold
known
of my later fate,
they
would have left
me
as I had
entered,
gay, naked and
cold.
Savor
I like the smell
of women,
not the store
purchased aroma
of artificial
fruit with a manipulated
unreal scent,
cleanly masking
the pure nature of
her; of it all -
I want the hidden
fruit
wafting from below
in a foamy current
river, fresh water
lightning sparked flow
washing over me;
over you -
and the aged wine
red bitter
taste of sweet
dewy morning
moon beamed soil
in which
I bury deep all I
know; a little I don't.
Upon Entering a
Late Night Coffeehouse
I’ve been drinking
and I notice how
hair lingers in
midair -
on those who haven't.
She whirls around and
I'm amazed
at how it avoids
the gravitational pull
of it all;
settling back to shoulders
on its own terms.
Her brown curls
contradicting the tightness of
her
clasping black shirt,
hips swaying ever so slightly
to music from hidden speakers.
She doesn't smile -
yet she stands on a table
with this glow on her face.
I wanted that glow.
Sonia Halbach
is currently finishing her BA in English and Communications
at Augustana College in Sioux
Falls, SD. Her poetry
has previously been published
in The New Writer, Taj
Mahal Review, Savannah Art and
Literature, Emprise Review,
Chronogram, The Taylor
Trust, Breadcrumb
Scabs, Main Channel
Voices, SP Quill, Concise Delight and has upcoming works in Conceit and Amulet. She is
the winner of the Maya Angelou Peace Poem
Competition in
2007.
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