Gift
What do I want?
I want to be the tide hugging the sand.
I want to lose the lunatic shadow.
I want to get drunk on nectar.
I want to grasp like roots.
I want to ache with bliss.
I want to blush like the sun.
I want to be a petal in wind.
I want to be snowy mountains in spring.
Chair of Imagination
My chair talks to me, tells me
when it hurts to sit on it. It braces
itself for when I lean back on its hard
balsa wood to think.
My chair moves by itself or maybe
when I trip over it. Its legs wobble on
the carpet as I stand on it to reach
the ceiling.
My chair has imagination. It dreams
of being the royal chair for prince or king.
Its seat is soft and squishy like sitting on
a bed of geraniums.
My chair and I both sit in wait for the day
it will break and be replaced by a newer,
more robust chair that doesn’t complain
but will never be the same as the chair of my
vision…
Pigeons
At Piazza San Marco seem friends,
bob and coo in the wind.
Ugh some people said–
eat whatever they find.
They are dull and gray but
fantails, bow as if to a king,
like generals they strut
almost like being.
Unlike sparrows they don’t rush.
Carry messages and diseases,
flock like sinners to a parish,
look like old geezers.
Still, it is quite a sight
At St. Mark’s there is nothing
like seeing hundreds alight!
Wings, wings, wings.
Two by Two
I am the bride whose cheeks hurt I
smiled so much.
One morning I couldn’t find my
wedding ring. It was as if
I had lost a part of me.
Sometimes you hug me so tight I feel
like I could break into pieces.
The world is a deluge.
We only have each other–
two by two.
Oak Door
Nowhere to go,
hibernating like a hedgehog.
My hair is growing long
like an afghan hound.
I video friends on Zoom,
read Kindle books.
Like seclusion in the psych ward
with the door locked and a mat on the floor.
For two weeks, I danced, prayed,
screamed, and banged against an oak door.
Time flows like wind,
I don’t know what day it is.
Now the corona virus,
then, madness.
About the Author
Marjorie Sadin is a nationally published poet. She has five books of poems in print including a full-length book, Vision of Luchaabout struggle and survival, love, death, and family. Recently, Marjorie published a new chapbook, Struck by Love. She lives and reads her poetry in the Washington DC area.
