Wednesday, 23 November 2022


Thanksgiving Bronze   

by Sara Epstein

I am painting myself with bronze 
Before I see you again.
Bronze, from head to toe,
Breathable, bendable bronze, 
The color of the crackly leaves
I see on this November morning.
Bronze, I shine on you:
Brilliant, brazen, beautiful.
I am not juicy watermelon for you to slurp,
To spit out my seeds like they are your garbage.
I don’t think you’ll mind.
If you get lonely
You can rub against me.
All that’ll happen is my outfit will shine more.
So you might see your own reflection
Shimmering, shimmering,
If you keep looking my way.

* * * * *

Sara Epstein is a clinical psychologist from Winchester, Massachusetts, who writes poetry and songs, especially about light and dark places. Her poems have appeared in Mocking Heart Review, Silkworm, Paradise in Limbo, Mom Egg Review, Chest Journal, Literary Mama, and two anthologies: Sacred Waters and Coming of Age. Kelsay Books will publish her collection Bar of Rest in the summer of 2023.  

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