Blue Glass
Of course that's seen
behind a screen. The lake
by day is patternless gray,
the O of breath-stoked
mirror or a chain-smoked
sky, slim fingers
rising, as smoke lingers.
Anyway, it's burning.
I'm still learning
to snap and send
and recommend
these shot-staggered
panes when how suddenly
strange it seems not to know
how at all to reach you
with even one of these
wide fish bellies
bumping up against
the screen.
Fenced-in,
penned, poor trout
keening, thrashing to get out.
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Other stories by Lizzie Skurnick
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this works well, I like the way it sounds
Beautiful. I love how this engages the reader throughout with its many linguistic surprises. And the sentence structure is fun and warm. Loved it.
I'm still learning
to snap and send
and recommend
these shot-staggered
panes
Very nice!
Good poem, Lizzie. I also like "chain-smoked sky." Fav.