Carolyn Elias
Baking Spritz to Honor my Grandmother
As I cut the cold,wet butter, it squishes,
like a long-forgotten kiss
I never said.
Grandmother waited--
lin…ger…ing…
to clasp cold hands
between cold hands.
Now my hands grasp
for the wisp of her…
Just out of reach.
I smell the vanilla
in her as I knead.
My spritz are never as good as…
memories.
Will my granddaughter grasp
for the wisp of me
with buttery hands?
Made Up Woman
Pluck away all my hairs so I may be well definedby the arch in my brows.
Virginal, smooth lips, pitch forward, untainted
by a tangle wood tumbleweed undulating between my thighs.
Long, glossy, pink legs, freshly vanished
gently slope into golden sandals.
No black beauties rising, proud and tall
on my chinny- chin- chin.
No growths sprout free like wild grass, under my t-shirt sleeves.
Make me moist and pink in all the right places.
Curl me, smooth me, and butter me up
to be a sun-kissed geisha for the world.
Gaze on me, am I not beautiful?
I am a woman made up.
The Jazz Singer
A bittersweet note rings unrequited.Blues melody afloat. Broken
lines: laments hang heavy.
Accusing counterpoints linger
unresolved.
The Farmer’s Wife
Widowed at age 29,she resolved not
to embrace her mother’s
baked bread and her father’s patch
of earth but stayed
in her hollow on the edge
of her father-in-law’s pig farm.
Determined
to be a wife without.
Twister
Howls of dogs and men suffocatingfrom all the air. The gyrating ground whirls
un
t
e
t
h
e r ed:
dishes shiver in their shelves,
the tilting wooden frame reels
It’s all over
with a thundering shudder.
A dry wisp escapes
trembling lips.
Who remains
unscathed from the capricious eye?
Copyright © 2014 Carolyn D. Elias
Carolyn
D. Elias' work has appeared in Sassafras Literary Magazine, East
Jasmine Review, and online at Apeiron Review, and
www.beakfulblogspot. Read more about her at
www.carolyndeliasauthor.squarespace.com, or follow her on twitter
@CarolynDElias.