Eve Rifkah: 2 poems

Photo by Omar Flores on Unsplash

In the photo the girl in the flowery dress looks away. 

in the black and white photo
she wears a garden of roses
imagine pinks, reds, sprigs of green.
She looks to the side her hand on a thin strap
in the mirror the back of her head – wispy hair
spins out of control.

She’s tired, dressed for play that played out.
He mother’s cross above her head 
she’s lived with so long she no longer sees.
no, she wants away from all of that
away from all the don’ts in life
wants living without
catechism and holy Marys 
the invisible father, son, ghost.

she wants a now that lasts forever
knows it never does
knows she needs more
to awake into a knowing 
an open door 
to tomorrow 
another way out.

Bad Weather

He sits patiently
staring at the sun-yellow door
until door opens 
to cold rain and ice

he sniffs, stares
and turns around
some days it just isn’t worth
leaving sleep

but being a cat
sleep comes easily
my body a warm pillow
or the rocking chair
or the radiator 
that nearly cooks
his thick fur

like the cat today I decide going out
not a good idea
cold rain a wet blanket of a day

like the cat I cocoon in an afghan
made in a winter past
swim in the pages of a good
thick book
we journey far away 
me to my stories
he to his dreams 
leaving this day to fend for itself 

Eve Rifkah  was co-founder of Poetry Oasis, Inc. (1998-2012), a non-profit poetry association dedicated to education and promoting local poets. Founder, and editor DINER, a literary magazine.She is the 2021 recipient of the Stanley Kunitz award. She lives in Worcester, MA with her husband and cat, Bela. She is author of One Kid  a Telling, (Luchamor Press, 2021).


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