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The Literary Review
Page 35
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SIBERIA IS BURNING
The world we knew as
an enchanted garden
has morphed into this unsteady
landscape
my friendships are few
but deepinside the room
last night I dreamed
I was living
back at the Chelsea Hotel
Lisa Bond__
_________________
*
I will leave notes
that no one will findsecret messages
in plain sight
that no one will see
Lisa Bond__
*
still listening
to the curve of your voice
as it pierces mein that moment
I’m holding on with something inside of me
that does not want to let gonight has fallen on some of us
the Moon is out
on both sides of the river
Lisa Bond __
_________________________
the tea leaves
my great aunt Bess
read in the back
of her antique storeon 48th street
as a little girl
I really loved to
be thereamong the treasures
& the big orange cat
Lisa Bond __
*
poems are notes from the dead to the living
or the living to the dead
crossing the border into each others territory
the ghosts sit in other rooms
on certain days
we could have the place to ourselves
they will linger where they linger probably for a long time
in the dusky light
Lisa Bond__
___________________________
*
the shining
wingof the beautiful
blackbird at the outdoor lunch tablethinking that
we could have been lovers
for a long timeLisa Bond__
Unfinished
October 5
There’s no room here
on this thin edge
between worlds
sitting on the edge
overlooking
the last
moment
you remember
being happy
•••••••••
Interlock
the looking overthe words fall
fail
flail
cannot right themselveswho am I
temporarily
in this bubble
the light fades
the voice dimming
in the dark
I am over
ever over nowinflection
in fraction
coming
down hereI pushed my way in
for the nourishment
for the moment
the heat rising
rang
out against me
stopping timeLisa Bond__
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