The Web Poetry Corner

Smzang

of

Weirton, WV, US

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On Reading Amy Clampitt's 'Beach Glass'

by

Smzang

I’ve walked that watery edge, Amy,
Teetered on the ledge of understanding,
Envisioned a Utopian paradise, but slipped
Before I found it.

The endless piles of plastic,
Residue of careless tourists
Pushing and shoving at my mind
Like waves on sand.

I’ll leave the glass to you, Amy
Bud lite and Almaden, one classy
Zinfadel of Berringer's, Not all
Tourists are infidels.

I’ll take the grasses, the plumey
Heads of swampy grasses nodding
their hello, Downy CatTails
bending in the wind.

My weedy, reedy friends
That teeter, always understanding
The uncertainty of me,
Of where I’m going...

where I've been.

Untitled

by

Smzang

Her Mother's Jewelry Box

The hinged lid, gilded with fluted edge,
a red velvet lining remembers traces
of its early flame. The mirror, aged
and wise still does not lie, Her mother's face
is reflected in her smile.

An amethyst, an opal, a few pieces of gold,
solid, old, enduring, A strand of pearls,
demure as if brand new, Three baby bracelets,
the kind hospitals used to give, each with a name
embossed on beads of pink and white.

And so the ancient box reveals
the history of a wife who failed
and no matter all the good she'd done
He worked his farm
without a son.

smzang