Galatea by Ruth Miller
Glacial Galatea knows Nothing unless she knows She was herself before Pygmalion’s bold Stare broke truth from her in a truth as cold. [av_hr class=’invisible’ height=’0′ [...]
Spider by Ruth Miller
No spider struggles to create The beautiful. His tensile arc Knows mathematics in the dark; A Michael Angelo of air Who weaves a theory that states Ultimatums on a hair. […]
Snow by Ruth Miller
Today three years ago, snow fell In a tropical area, in a season Of growth, for spring was nearly here. Uninured to streams of scarlet blossom Blanketed and cosseted, we […]
Penguin on the Beach by Ruth Miller
Stranger in his own element, Sea-casualty, the castaway manikin Waddles in his tailored coat-tails. Oil Has spread a deep commercial stain Over his downy shirt front. Sleazy, grey, It clogs […]
There are Wounds by Ruth Miller
Written on wind or water Word is flesh. Soon or later Flesh must speak in tones So dark they pierce the skin. Stigmata are not revealed At such times: There […]
