March 25, 2021
"The Cruelest Month" has been published on Rue Scribe.
anxiety hangover leaves the bones brittle covered
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.