Heather Green currently lives in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. Her chapbook No Omen, is available at Love Among the Ruins Press.

I

mothers’ tears
in the frosted cup
at the tips of the figures
where there is no more comfort

young mothers
with sunny lips
brief dreams
similar similar

to remember
such as it became
what was necessary
and what the wolf keeps

IV

where the man is seated
the radiance turns
sorrow inside sorrow
into a life’s hunger

as much as the snow
the hatred in the stones
the condemned bridges
neither sail nor sleep

and so goes the skin
on the brows of the wells
from one defect to another
alone and alone

nothing but the eyes
of a love of a leap
that rest themselves in fevers
if all is to be lost

V

to what sings the depth
in the lesions of the icy cries
yawning from so many native flowers
heavy from childhood

what speaks is more hidden
and the star on the mouth
on the sunny side
of the street on all the teeth

how I saw you it was forgotten
pass by the black mass
what is said to someone else
when the bird shines in the smoke

you did not know how to give the joy
that rediscovers the enormous eyes
and predicts the old wounds