Poetry — June 23, 2011 14:03 — 0 Comments

Little Sister – R. D. Kuensting

She longs
to spend the summer
like a heart-shaped bivalve or a garden:
filmy,
dulcet,
flowering;

to
b e
invisible but detectable,
white from no contact with light,
vanishing;

to skip or leap about,
sunny, care-free,
having to do with a wedding;

to be that naïve young woman
in the place beside the fire,
older,
one of two equal parts;

for a formal expression of praise;

for the smell of earth after a rain;

to be, like those
great
porcelain
rivers,
victorious despite heavy losses;

and to find something while looking for something else.

Bio:

R. D. Kuensting grew up in Castro Valley, California, and has also lived in Oregon, Texas, and, most recently, Washington State. She recently graduated from the University of Washington with a BA in Creative Writing and will move to Pennsylvania this fall to begin working on her MFA in fiction at Pennsylvania State University.

Leave a Reply

What am I?

Bioluminescent eye
That sees by the shine
Of its own light. Lies

Blind me. I am the seventh human sense
And my stepchild,
Consequence;

Scientists can't find me.

Januswise I make us men;
Glamour
Was my image then—

Remind me:

The awful fall up off all fours
From the forest
To the hours…

Tick, Tock: Divine me.

-- Richard Kenney