ISSUE 5 · FALL 2010




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Copyright © 2010

Daniela Schonberger





Let This Be My Refuge

DANIELA SCHONBERGER



escape comes

in what your hands do

with the strum, the strings

vibrating over the hollow like birds that flock

around a water hole, thrumming


I am one of these birds

deliquescing in the blue slant light,

aching for the shiver that makes me

come alive, the maples that glaze requiem


how delicate your words

hung, framing your obsidian features

like long lappets of moon jellyfish,

the acoustic notes plucked to puncture


deflate a stressed lung—let air in

with a whoosh, let a thousand tiny harpoons

prickle my nerve endings because

this             is my soul             coming back,

the three-quarter beat,

your fingerplay, my oh