Elaine Terranova Poems

Odd, the baby's scabbed face peeking over
the woman's shoulder. The little girl
at her side with her arm in a cast,
...

There was this disease
out gobbling up the children.
It grabbed us
around the chest,
...

I had to push myself
away from the window to watch TV,
even the Democratic convention,
police marching behind shields
...

At a well, a maiden (na'arah)
is drawing water. A stranger arrives.
He is footsore, weary. The maiden,
hospitable, invites him home.
...

on a motorcycle
into the intersection at 50 miles per
with no helmet
arms open,
...

It's windy and the trees are saying,
get off, let me go. I read once
how a chainsaw in such a forest
passed irrationally through wood
...

On 16th St.
a teenager's loud falsetto
wavers over
an old gospel song,
...

He might be tethered
like an animal, kept from where
he wants to be. A big man,
nearing sixty. He sits and sweats,
...

What with foresight and dancing,
gypsies would seem to pass easily
between worlds. The hummingbird too—
...

Already, we’d be driving past
those trees, that part of the forest.
Even briefly, it refreshed you.
It was like mint in August
...