Maggie Sawkins
Maggie Sawkins Poems
The fir cone I picked from a Corsican forest
carried across an ocean
nestled between balls of socks,
has fallen from the grate and rests
...
I could watch them for hours
Esmeralda and Zola
strolling up and down
on legs as long as stilted circus clowns.
...
I have come to translate the silence.
I've bought paper and pencils
and a pair of small ears.
...
The Best Poem Of Maggie Sawkins
Poem Composed While Doing A Headstand
The fir cone I picked from a Corsican forest
carried across an ocean
nestled between balls of socks,
has fallen from the grate and rests
where it meets my gaze as I pose
upside down in my daily practice.
I notice how it makes the perfect mandala,
its curved wooden petals
its skirt of hearts,
and in the moment after chanting
my thoughts thin and clear as tinsel
I wonder how, each year in the dim days
before Christmas, I have the gall
to consider spraying it gold.
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4/23/2024 5:40:22 PM # 1.0.0.1119
