by Judith Skillman
Come in autumn
pumpkin seeds gooey
with slime
the slant sun
less and less an ally
half-moon swathed
like a newborn
and that last rose
bobbing like a ship
in a dry harbor
sugar ants thread counters
your bony fingers
your scholar’s hump is
fair game
stock can go up
and down at will
you’ve learned
from studying the decades
each morsel of Russian
noodle-clothed potato
holds the taste of tea
you’re afraid
of tarnished amulet
worn by ancestors
one a bracelet
the other a choker
Judith Skillman is the recipient of awards from the Academy of American Poets and Artist Trust. Her recent collection is The Truth About Our American Births, Shanti Arts Press. Poems have appeared in Shenandoah, The Southern Review, The Threepenny Review, Zyzzyva, and elsewhere. Skillman is a faculty member at the Hugo House in Seattle, Washington. Visit judithskillman.com.
