The woman with the tiger’s smile
passes us in the garden.
Her arms cross her breast
and in each hand, a white dove’s clenched
in her gloved fists.
Their white against her lapis dress
aches like the sky remembering June.
You weep for dead September.
You doubt April will ever come again.
You mourn the coming snow as if
the cold will bury all our dreams,
as if invaders ride on every flake of frost.
Come, my love, my fox-faced love,
the maples blush at the nude elms,
oaks throw gold coins at their feet.
So what if Winter barks on our trail,
snaps at our heels,
let us burrow flank to flank,
let us curl our tails about our faces
and dream the green.
Sandi Leibowitz, author of the poetry collections Eurydice Sings and the Elgin-nominated The Bone-Joiner, writes speculative poetry and fiction that may be found in Not One of Us, Kaleidotrope, Devilfish Review, Metaphorosis, Liminality, and other magazines and anthologies. Her poems have won second- and third-place Dwarf Stars, and been nominated for the Rhysling, Pushcart Prize, and Best of the Net awards. She founded and edits Sycorax Press, a micropress devoted to mythic poetry, and the related online magazine, Sycorax Journal. Her children’s poetry and stories appear in magazines worldwide; her children’s book, Magotu and the Leopard, has been published by Library for All. An elementary-school librarian, she also sings classical and early music. She lives in a raven’s wood next door to bogles in New York City. She invites you to visit her online at sandileibowitz.com.
Artwork: Chie Yoshii, Guardian