SARAH M. ZANG

The Poetry Of.
Sarah M. Zang.....................................................

Chemistry

Once, her toe touched his ankle
under the restaurant table
with the checkered cloth
and the Chianti basket candle.

It might have been accidental,
so casual the connection
couched amidst conversation
and house wine.

A Cinderella shoe,
one ankle, tender
from such incidental dinners...
Who would have thought

they'd have caught
the tablecloth
on fire?

When Oaks Remember Wind

High in the black rock mountains,
the wind keeps tryst with trees -
weaves a spell
that bends them to its will.

Then, when the storm is spent,
the limbs forget the agony
of such brutality,

Ancient oaks remember
white-frost nights
awash with stars
and moonlight

and the wild, wild wind
racing, dancing, whispering
its ancient rhythms

Here's How It Is

it's like you see me
standing on the corner
rain coming down in dashes
as if determined to wash the earth
to new

you see me standing here
wind blown and wet
hair hanging in rivulets of ringlets
(it always frizzes
in the rain)

and here i am in 4 inch heels
blistering to be doing anything
but standing here
with this broken umbrella
in my hand

as you drive by
oblivious
in your flashy car
and leave me
in a splash

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