Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Magellan

You wish I'd look at maps with you,
that I'd watch the way you navigate,
avoiding polar icecaps and subtle obstacles.
But if I did, I doubt I'd ever really find
the shortest distance between two points,
since a straight line is unlikely to inspire me
when the wind is on the water, on a
pure blue sea of anonymity.

Still, I like the tan edges of islands, with
curving lines of latitude and longitude,
and currents clearly marked for seafarers,
or for iniquitous dives into the forbidden.
The ocean is a shade of blue perfection, and
the feel of folded paper in my hand is salt
and something like tears.

Would you mind if I just tore this loveliness
into random shapes that might mean something,
if only to me?

--Susan S. Keiser’s checkered past includes a stint as a high school English teacher, a docent gig in a museum dedicated solely to the poetry of Robert and Elizabeth Barrett Browning, ongoing commitment to a highly specialized literary marketing outfit and a brief fling as a pastry chef. She also spent years as a bank executive. Her poems have appeared in Carcinogenic Poetry, Orion headless, Haggard and Halloo, Right Hand Pointing and SpokenWar and she is at work on a book in which both kudzu and ice fishing figure prominently.

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