Bio Note: I have been busy adjusting to online teaching, and also getting used to the social isolation. These are strange, sometimes contradictory times. My son was recently locked out and tried to get my attention by throwing a small stone at the sliding glass door in the living room. There is a balcony outside the door, and I can't wait to fill the space with brightly colored geraniums. I have published three chapbooks, the most recent of which is Icarus: Anthropology of Addiction. I m also English language editor for Poetry Hall: A Chinese and English Bilingual Journal.
Shiva and Vishnu Wrestle in My Living Room
Crack and splinter a sudden dazzle of destruction my sliding glass door from just a small stone meant to catch my attention thousands of jagged web lines glitter like a Russian oligarch’s wife this wreckage is held in place as a suspended tragedy by an old wood frame paint peeling from the ice and heat of Wisconsin’s seasons my heart still beats beneath my breastbone I hear it knocking all through the dark night’s sleep
©2020 Sylvia Cavanaugh
Editor's Note: If this poem(s) moves you please consider writing to the author (email address above) to tell him or her. You might say what it is about the poem that moves you. Writing to the author is the beginning of community at Verse Virtual. It is very important. -JL