Sara-Ann Rosen

Illusive

A gesture (when full form
Is hidden) and desire
Spark the beauty withheld
Promises of intimacy imagined in a face


Blue Desert

I didn’t always like this painting of Uncle Van’s
With a treacherously lulling, soft blue sky abutting parched clay
When I only felt in primary colors, but longed for warm greens
Textural, breathing, nurturing; secretly stretching my palette
Only after I had walked in serenely harsh desert terrain
And held those anemic shades in my lungs, against my hands
Did I begin to love his languid cast of this unrestricted landscape


Morning Indulgence

Jolted from rest in an eerie predawn hour
By this incorrigible, evolutionary defense mechanism
Against sleeping alone, to keep me from falling prey
To savage predators on the prowl for vivifying flesh
In this solitary twilight that is civil in appearance only
I console myself, remembering I will soon meet the frosty haze of morning
With a secret decadence: cold indigo and crimson succulence
The squishy, sweet tang of wild blueberries bursting on my tongue
Sends vigorous, visceral signals that parts of life are ripe. RIPE!
A seductive metaphor for promise


About the Author

Interdisciplinary thinker, intersectional feminist, and LGBTQIA+ justice accomplice who is learning anti-racism. A word slinger, lapsed folk singer, recovering lawyer, almost therapist and astrologer turned coach and meaning sleuth. Part analytical researcher and part intuitive creative with mad sweet and spicy tooths. Sara-Ann once had a poem published in Harvard's Dudley Review but has only recently been finding her way back to poetry.


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