Still life
Maybe it all is folklore
or folk – lure
a visual vocabulary;
something chambered.
tapered and funneling
authentic
Shadow me in home
I might; I ought
I fear.
It was a heavy moment
Seeing and putting: the shade drawn
Was I sardonic?
Distilled?
When I was a girl; the prayer leapt away
All of those associations: the lush
There are no ordinarys.
Spoon; crown
Tooth; sword
Don’t face away.
If I were someone else; I’d never know
this.
© Umansky 2010
blog of poet, leah umansky 
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