She planted things on the edge
of the Lake: a baking pan,
a glass jar full of marbles
that spilled into the dirt.
Topaz and orange balls
gleamed like small planets
in the dark. Or fireflies.
A silver pocket watch
ticked in fits and starts.
A compass, cuff links,
fishnets, and coffee beans;
yes, even her yellowed
wedding dress. The smell
of the astronomer who loved
telescopes and ginseng
lingered in her skin.
The star-like earrings
on her dresser would go, too.
Forget the rocking
chair, the mirror,
or the butcher knife.
Tomorrow, she whispered,
I will add this needle and
this worn, pickled heart.
Shannon K. Winston
Shannon K. Winston is currently a Postdoctoral Lecturer in Princeton University’s Writing Program. She is also a translator, poet, and poetry critic. Her work has appeared in Absinthe: A Journal of World Literature in Translation, Her Circle Ezine, Zone 3, Two Review, and Glass: A Journal of Poetry. Her first full-length poetry collection, Threads Give Way (Cold Press), was published in 2010. She received her PhD from the Department of Comparative Literature at the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor in 2014.
Artwork: Kindra Nikole, “a lighthouse for the lesser”
Website: http://www.kindranikolephotography.com/