Rowena Silver

Rowena Silver is an editor of Epicenter Literary Magazine: http://www.geocities.com/Athens/Delphi/3884   Her poetry and other work has been published in such journals as Psychological Perspectives, Writer's Digest, Midstream, Ariga, Potpourri, and the San Fernando Journal, Rowena lives in Riverside, CA with her dog Vytas.

E-Mail Rowena at vytas_@ucr.campus.mci.net

Casement

carefully,
and with
a silent sigh
the beetle splits
his crust of shell
in half
and thrusts his
fragile dorsum
to the wind
to bask in daylight
fearless of attack
while we, thick
skeletoned
and huge
dread the exposure
of our smallest
wound

Carne Vale

discarding skin,
shedding supposition
like a snake
producing winding tracks
in sawdust tents
of unrepentant shame

undressing time
and layering
parquet
on sandy beaches
thick with souvenir-

the boardwalk
finishes just where the
tide begins

and I haunt
circus grounds
leave cotton candy
fingerprints on carousels
and wooden unicorns

The rowdy
shadow laughter
of the crowd
dispersing after mass
surrounds me
in a dappled
soft regret

that I am only witness
to the sanctified
procession
is my role, and to
remain outside of bliss
my choice
and my choice also
to remain container,
for the thing
contained

HARVEST
            for Cesar Chavez

Hold it-- plucked fresh from the vine
hot from the sun
a gray film coating the deep purple
of its smooth skin
wash it, but like a sugar cube
between the paws of a raccoon
it will wash away, dissolve entirely
before it can be made
completely clean
He told us how many tears
watered its vine
how many undocumented
infants suffered that
you may taste
this sweet poison
go ahead,
choke on it.