my untitled 10 26 2016




she needs silver needle rain
upon her shiver skin
to startle her away from
frequency of hand sewn quilts
and layered down fill pillows

and she craves stove brewed Arabica
in a thick ceramic;  her narrow fingers
tight embrace the radiating heat;
she breathes its draught of steam mist
and thinks the pitch of darkness

and grows turnip, carrot, parsnip
earthy things to blacken in a skillet
and tumble to a pewter plate; she
jars pickles…soaks beets in vinegar
and salt and bitter herbs

she needs the prick of cat claws
upon her thighs and knees…
and disdains the warm wet slop
of dog lick on her hands

would choose a harpsichord than harp
and do away with birth day…and
lines on maps…and forced smiles; she
lives beside the sea for its tempestuous


Bonnie Marshall

Artwork by Andrew Wyeth
“Corner of the Woods” 1954


10 thoughts on “my untitled 10 26 2016

  1. A tumbling study of sensation as metaphor,metaphor as sensation. Most eloquently discomforting! And so very subtle distinctions that build the emotional character! A gem. ( By the by: i read your ‘browse’ list as a comment on this poem- the silence between words
    a Picasso kind of love
    so tight a frame.

    Spooky and apt!

  2. such an interesting portrait. you have written the poem so vividly that i think of her as a person i would like to know, even though she would be prickly at times. as i keep looking through the poem i am struck with its physicality. until the last stanza each section provides sensory details. i also see how the short “i” sounds predominate in terms such as “shiver skin” and “fill pillows.” i, too, wrote poems in response to Andrew Wyeth’s paintings, but many years ago, and not nearly with the quality of this poem.

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