anxiety hangover
leaves the bones brittle
covered with surprise April snow
trees under that snow
flaunt their grace
a thousand white fingers pointing everywhere
but their sap has frozen
life is present
yet in abeyance
like aging blood
standing still
while babes flicker
or rage
their heat
is no match for this awkward storm
or the squall, perhaps
simply a sketch of brilliance
one flash point in a trillion digital blips
only iconic
to the tender
of eye, mind and flesh
the elders rigid
as if dropped to knees
on the icy blanket
praying for a lesson
a clean path
to purity
they seek a hearth
to come into
to melt
and recall
the suppleness
Tamra Plotnick’s poetry and prose works have been published in many journals and anthologies, including: Serving House Journal; The Waiting Room Reader, Global City Review and The Coachella Review. She has performed her work in multimedia shows at a range of venues in New York City where she lives. She dances samba and raqs sharki, teaches high school, and malingers with friends and family when not writing poetry.