sarahpessin@sarahpessin.com

Poetry

sukkot (10.2.20)

tinfoil and plastic pictures

are a flood of colors

in reds and golds

paperlinks rustle

like chandelier treetops

as grandfather greets the evening in prayer

splinter-walls are palaces

where I sat with my father

under the bamboo portalbridge

then down comes the bread

like manna from heaven

in a basket drop

(openroofed moonscape
is a quiet greeting

in concrete hope)

magic word (8.31.20)

translucent skinned breath

intaken forsaken life

is time’s fragile curve

and with friend’s magic word

all is brought round again to the start

(infinity in the face to face)

glasslines (8.14.20)

movingbox melody

“this side up”

[thud]


into the fray 

she goes


a melt of memories:

fragile. fractured. frozen. 

flight-lines cut open through every surface

and her story is told in the remainder

treetime (august 2020)

better for the wear

a hearth of shelter to those 

who needed everything

and ultimately gnawed through


alive and kicking in the space

between beetled greetings 

swarms of good intentions

with appetites to match


and she waits: infection, dissection, dissolution

hard hopes for an absolute not:

moments of faith

in a now, in a ‘no’, in a ‘never.’


and when the bough broke

the raintides did fall

opened onto the heart of a soundscape

like echoes of greeting (‘it was so good to see you’)


the pulse of one trembling limb later

she reaches eastward and westward

embracing heaven 

in the crease of a smile