– Mahogany Federal Empire Claw Foot Sofa circa 1840
She can’t leave on her own, her ankle
broken. And more, the knuckled men say
cut off her feet all together. Prickled
and pulled by cat claws, she is faded,
her flattened pillows faded, her spiral
swirls scratched and worn. She is passed over
wide windowsill, her grandfather’s
ornamental irises, her long green lawn.
I don’t pluck loose threads, but luxuriate
and lounge, levitate even on the one pulsing
thing we worshiped together – the non-sequitur,
the gauche flourish of gnarled toes, the knobby
kneed jollity of a mellifluent brocade. Amen.
Amen. Lay it down.
Mary Panke is an emerging poet and 2017 Pushcart Prize nominee with work published or forthcoming in several journals, including Word Fountain; Poetry City, USA; and Fredericksburg Literary and Art Review. She lives near Hartford, Connecticut, with her family.