LineYou mingle your shadow with those of the trees
then examine the lake ice with a finger
with a shadow
penetrating the surface to something like opacity
the water has shut its eye where you walk pulling your sled
with a sister cross-legged
awakening a slight blue in your track.
PointOnce you’ve painted the slender branches on the board and cut the tissue paper into inch-
squares, pour a little glue onto a plate. Use the back of a pencil with a round flat eraser,
placed in the center of a square of tissue, to bunch the paper around. Dip into the glue,
press onto the branch tip.
tip into the blossom-point and maybe paint a sun in the top corner
Spherein here the trouble is only an argument
the wings in pieces
redden the candle alight
myrtled in the way of speech
regulated for rolling-eye clever
I haven’t pleaded yet but
will you give me a handle preface
dent in the ball-bounce of your dream
Reflector Telescopea comet melts
and brief storms on the sun throw ghosts into our nights
sudden explosions from before anyone was
punch holes in my dance card
and fingernail of moon
leaves its love mark on my brow
PlaneMy heart was on vibrate.
Thought punctuated by cloud hyphens, comma moon.
Paper sky uncut by the scissor of wing.
The ocean shows its curl.
Copyright © 2014 A. Anupama
Anupama is a poet and translator whose work has appeared in several literary publications including Fourteen Hills, The Bitter Oleander, and CutBank. She studied at Northwestern University and Vermont College of Fine Arts, where she received her MFA in writing in 2012. Currently a contributing writer at Numéro Cinq Magazine, she lives in Nyack, New York, and blogs at seranam.com.