Issue 9

Autumn 2013


Girl with Jar

You carry your head high on the stalk of your neck, as if
you were carrying a jar of something precious
(a small Diogenes, perhaps, who slept inside a jar
at night, and searched the world with a lantern by day)
that must be held up high to the sun or the eye of God
like a gift – a jar of emeralds? With spaces
in between like the labyrinth of wrinkles in your mind:
like the labyrinth I searched today, at the last
bursting on the center with its radiant lines pointing
outward and away, and its marble girl, barely
emerged from the stone and still so heavy with her white sleep…
What was I saying? Oh, you, was it? You with your
ballerina walk, with your hands making love to the air,
your green, invisible gems held up for the world
to see and admire? So hard to believe you could ever
have ebbed and been lost in the poured tide of the years.


Marly Youmans