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Wednesday, April 11, 2012

In Honor of National Poetry Month - Kathryn Stripling Byer

by Kathryn Stripling Byer

Not buried
but piece by piece carried
up narrow stairs
into the rafters,

her leavings
have summered through
forty-five seasons
of Bible-Belt heat.

I can stand only so much
of being up here,
on this late August afternoon,
dead-end of summer

in which I come looking
for her again.
In the usual places.
This jewelry casket,

for instance.  Inside it
she stares from the heart
of a foliate brooch
that I raise in a tangle

of gold chains I don't
try to loosen.  She's still
here: a face
I have used up

with wonderings.
High cheekbones.
A mouth slightly open

and inside that
no invitation
for me to speak out of it.


Kathryn Stripling Byer said...

Kaye, thanks so much! I'm honored to be featured on your wonderful blog. And with this particular poem. I don't think I've exhausted this subject yet, and I probably never will.

Kaye Barley said...

Kay, Hi!!!!
How sweet of you to drop by, thank you!
It was hard for me to choose a favorite piece from your work. Many of your poems touch me deeply, but this is particularly haunting.