by Shira Dentz
They say
we went out on a limb,
rustling more
than flame
between cracks,
heat-packs.
Moonlight hides, someone wrote
as if the truth shows
itself once
a month, on
schedule.
The same
goes for the entire
secret.
They say
shadows are clues,
nothing more.
: :
They say shadows are clues, nothing more.
The same goes for the entire secret.
On schedule,
as if the truth shows itself once a month,
moonlight hides, someone wrote.
Between cracks, heat-packs
rustling more than flame.
They say we went out on a limb.
Shira Dentz is the author of five books including SISYPHUSINA (PANK, 2020)—winner of the Eugene Paul Nassar Prize 2021—and two chapbooks. Her writing appears in many venues including Poetry, American Poetry Review, Cincinnati Review, Iowa Review, Gulf Coast, Plume, New American Writing, jubilat, Brooklyn Rail, Lana Turner, Verse Daily, Poetry Daily, Academy of American Poets’ Poem-a-Day Series (Poets.org), and NPR. Interviews with her about her writing appear in journals such as Rain Taxi, Ploughshares, Waxwing, The Rumpus, and Kenyon Review. She’s a recipient of awards including an Academy of American Poets’ Prize, Poetry Society of America’s Lyric Poem Award, and Poetry Society of America’s Cecil Hemley Memorial Award. Currently, she is Special Features Editor at Tarpaulin Sky and lives in New York. More about her can be found at www.shiradentz.com