For My Sister

Sophia Kaszuba
From:   Like a Beast of Colours. Beach Holme Publishing, 1998

My sister dreams her beauty every night.
The light in her head
hurts. She is red. She is cold.
She knows the surgeon's hands
opening the pain of her face
lifting and shifting the brain.

The poem of her face folds
into the rooms of the heart
ancient as beryl, as ruby.

The opening of her head
in the night
for a soft-hard mass
big as a golf ball, the doctor said
making a circle of his finger and thumb
as big as this.

Poem 1 | Poem 2 | Poem 3 | Poem 4 | Poem 5 | Poem 6

Sophia Kaszuba's works copyright © to the author.