Wednesday, 16 November 2022

 

FLAT

                                                                                                by Stellasue Lee

    on my back, I look up to identify shapes
that appear out of the concrete ceiling—

a small child holding out her hands,
a puppy with black eyes and a slight

imperfection for its nose. There are
many others to keep me company

as light plays from the cars six stories
below— an old woman, her mouth

round with surprise, a boat,
afloat in ripples made by the pour.

Once, when I was feverous, I saw the
most amazing thing. It was early morning,

I think, and the ceiling became liquid—
waves lapping at walls, but later,

the concrete seemed to have set again                                               
and I didn’t worry enough to sort it out.

That night there were church bells.
I slept in uneven shadows, then woke hungry.


* * * * *

Stellasue Lee was a founding editor of Rattle, a poetry journal, and is now editor Emerita. Two of her books have been entrants for the Pulitzer Prize, Firecracker Red, and Crossing the Double Yellow Line. Her latest publication is New & Selected Poems, Queen of Jacks, available on Amazon or her website: stellasuelee.com. Dr. Lee was winner of the grand prize of Poetry To Aide Humanity in 2013 by Al Falah in Malaysia. She now teaches privately. Dr. Lee received her Ph.D. from Honolulu University. She was born in the year of the dragon.



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