We sneak through brambles,
and peek behind Maple leaves
to watch my brother, her sister,
on the wide, flat, stone--

discarded by the Wisconsin Glacier,
too awkward for New England's
shores--now the centerpiece
of this Pennsylvania clearing.

Lila and George, their bodies
bright with summer, practice position
number one from his new book,
"The Joy of Sex." Two hundred

yards away I hear coos
from the hen-house, my hands
still warm from collecting
the brown eggs of unsuspecting hens.

We watch rock grind Lila's spine
and splinter her tailbone. The petal
shape bruises, inside her pale thighs,
will bloom tomorrow.

Suzanne Frischkorn lives in Connecticut with her husband and son. Her poetry has appeared in many print and online journals. Her poetry appears in numerous journals and anthologies. Recent publications include JAMA, 2 River View, The Salt River Review, and The Melic Review. She is the author of two chapbooks "The Tactile Sense," (Alpha Beat Press 1996) and "Exhale," (Scandinavian Obliterati Press 2000. <http://www.blindwatchmakers.com/sop.htm>)

E-mail Suzanne Frischkorn at
sefrischkorn@1stconnect.com

Other poems

[ The Joy Of Sex ] [ Hunger's Reach ] [ Her Face ]
[ Exiles ] [ Mountain Women ]

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