POEMS BY KRISTINA HEFLIN

The Violin

The violin was shaped 
with pride and skill 
by her Maker
Not the most expensive 
wood nor as much varnish 
as her sisters, but her shape 
was practical and her strings 
designed for glorious music
So she wondered, day after day
as every other instrument 
in the shop was chosen
Bright, shiny trumpets 
slender clarinets 
wide bass drums 
all found their mates
no one picked up the violin
“Violins are difficult” 
On rare occasions 
when a stringed instrument 
was called for, a flashier model 
was always chosen
Dust gathered on the lonely violin
Until one day the Customer came in
He’d been through several instruments 
but decided this time 
a violin would do nicely
“That one, behind the counter” 
The violin’s strings 
trembled as he held her 
beneath his chin 
cradled her bow 
between his fingers
The sound that came forth 
was far from beautiful
She was out of tune 
from years of neglect
She tried so hard 
to please the Customer
He rewarded her 
with a smile
paid the Man behind the counter
“For a trial run” 
Every day the violin 
tried her best 
every day she sounded better 
The music that poured 
from her strings began 
to sound like symphonies
Until the day the Customer 
closed her lid
Through the thick case
she heard the bell 
of the shop door ring 
He laid her on the counter
“I don’t think violins are for me”


Hands that Have Always Held Me

Father, where is the lamb?
The servants say you always bring a lamb
bleating and crying
spotless and pure
following guileless in your wake.
It cannot recognise the blood-stained knife at your hip
sharp enough to slice bone and sinew 
with a single touch.
It doesn’t know the sticks 
piled on the servant’s back that snap and creak 
with every upward step.
They didn’t say this mountain would be so steep, Father.
Did the lambs stumble too?
The ones that have come before?
Father, where is the lamb?
Is it waiting at the top?
The Lord will provide, you say
but now I see no lamb
only the trembling of your hands
strong hands that have always held me.
Did the lambs feel the cold mountain wind 
through their tight, curly fleece? 
Did they realise their inevitable end?
The kindling, the knife, Father, now I know.

Kristina Heflin is an Arizona State University English major, based in Northern California. She has served on the editorial board of the literary journal Flumes and is Activities Coordinator for the Yuba College Literary Arts Club. She has been published in the literary journals Flumes, Canyon Voices, and Diverse Minds, the websites 2Elizabeths and the write launch, as well as the anthology The Beckoning. Future publications include Canyon Voices and the Same. When she’s not writing or tutoring English at Yuba College, she enjoys horseback riding and Marvel comics.