Poetry Issue 9

   Issue # 9: January-June 2008

Rebecca Givens



That Which Was Eurydice


      He watches her: she doesn’t speak, but only looks
                at the summit of his left ear. Her body talks of pains
      under her chest bones, lodged deeply
      from being watched too often. Robin, fern,
                                                                      things undone
      by measuring their growth.

      Burying forecasts: nothing above ground, nothing
                                                    beyond the reach of the hand.

      In his mind, he finds ropes, ties them to her ankles, tries
                to drag her to municipal air. He must have pulled hard,
      though — he’s left in waiting, holding the gold feet
      of a griefless, lucky girl.