USA

rferrarelli@earthlink.net

The Default Mode

You need to watch
what topics you pick
when writing poetry.
Political poems
become quickly dated,
or, if you’re lucky, history.
Brand names
disappear even faster:
cultural references
that mystify translators,
readers of other languages
and of their own.
I'm sure you know
about the default mode.
But do you also know
that even when you make a choice
and choose out of love,
you can get stuck
with what's conventional,
customary, things
you never wanted or asked for?
I can't speak for men,
but as a woman,
I know about this only too well.

Published Black Bear Review

Crows
(At the Women's Center)

The word careful, the hand
tender. We cry, sometimes,
we laugh, together.
You no longer see the mesh
of screens and the tiny frames.
You look beyond
to the trees in full leaf, now,
and the deepest green.

And only when there is a break
in the conversation
do you hear the crows'
unmistakable racket.
But there is nothing ominous
about them today.
They're just neighbors,
loud, gregarious,
having a party
in the tree next door.

Almost elegant
in their plain silks,
a little tipsy, they feast
on the sweet
slightly-fermented cherries.

Published in Laurel Review.

The Couples in Egyptian Tombs

so beautiful in slate
alabaster, granite
were all painted once
and this one, in the Boston
Museum of art, still is
the man, a deep reddish brown
the woman, golden--
even back then
the dark/fair motif
of television and motion pictures.

But the contrast ends there.
Straight and well-formed
shoulders slightly broader
breasts slightly rounder,
they're alike as male
and female can be, and both
wear the same open, almost
eager look as they stand
side by side
to meet together
what new life lies ahead.

The woman always
with one arm around his waist
fingers resting lightly
on the bare flesh
holding him to her
and letting him go.
The man always as if about
to take the first step
leading the way
within the woman's embrace.

How reassuring it must've been
for both of them
to know just where to stand.

Appeared in Slant.

© All Copyright, Rina Ferrerelli.
All Rights Reserved. Printed By Permission.