Marsh Hawk Review

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Susan Terris

     Fallen Light


The mile-long breakers threaded north-south
thump against the western shore.
An afternoon of little wind and the shook foil
of water is sparked by a thousand fallen suns.
In their brilliance, I try to measure September’s
failing days, anxious to hold them and seine
agates, shells, ancient sand dollar fossils
roiling invisibly below the surf.
Never assume, I remind myself kneeling on ice plant,
because all beauty is promised to darkness
as quartz and granite are ground to sand,
so a life erodes beneath breakers and fallen light;
yet, when the sun is low, even a single grain of sand
casts an angular, heart-stopping shadow.


       Prowl & Growl of a Feline Susan Terris

Brown and wrinkled, mane dyed lion-gold
Leopard-like sunspots on her limbs
Belly low, feet bare, eyes at half-mast,

she growls at me when I mention treasure
we buried in my veggie garden when we
were 12 but not exactly kissin’ cousins

Still the same age: I, who wanted a canoe
to paddle, and she, with balls, wanted only
to play golf every day or contract bridge

For me a bridge is to paddle under or to
dare crossing the tressle with train tracks
as I walk on the slates between the rails

She always cat-like with carnal yawps as
she raked my face with her sharp claws,
but we did dig deep to bury our treasure

Coins, rocks, shells and a slice of fruitcake,
planning we’d dig it up in 20 years
But my old house was sold, and she yowls,
shows her teeth when I suggest we ask

if we can go behind the new folks garage
to dig up our treasure. Animal-like
she’d rather chase balls, little white ones,
while I kayak, seek new trails to climb

Born 4 weeks apart, we are not alike
I hunt, search, often try to kill with words
as I prowl and howl. Her animal self is timid
now and tame. Mine, though, is still wild