susan kay anderson

the loud cry

She turned and was gone.
What she found
she couldn’t account for.
The letters home, her old-new ways.
They answered her somewhat
desperate, all those exclamation marks.
She figured out later
that they stood for silence,
each horse in its own corral,
waiting to be fed.

The silences
hung around too long.
She would worship these, later.
They would have the table set,
knife and fork and moon.
Dish and fiddle until
someone found
their broken pieces watching.

__________

About the author

Susan Kay Anderson lives in Oregon and takes care of her parents. Anderson was lucky to be Ed Dorn’s student at C.U.-Boulder. She studied/studies with other remarkable writers and/or their students/offspring. Her poems, “A First Fire” and “Human Being” are forthcoming in the journal Troublemaker Firestarter, Volume Five. NewPages recently featured her book reviews, and her poems are forthcoming in Bulb Culture Collective, Capella, and tiny wren’s 2nd print anthology, The Half-Life of Echoes: Poems about the Power and Fragility of Memories. Her chapbook Goodbye, Mean Applesauce is shortlisted at Beyond Words.