Carol Dine

 -after Where It Ends ll, Samuel Bak

Luminous clouds,
facades adorned
with azure light;
it floats down the alley
into a scatter
of empty bowls.

Hanging over a door,
a ladle like a mezuzah;

a child’s first cup,
a grandmother’s lost pitcher,
a generation of vacant tables.

In a nearby forest pit,
ribs pile up like butter knives.

Some afternoon,
the sky will darken;
rain will come down,
collect in the saucers,

the broken seams.


 -after Remnants 11, Samuel Bak

the bombing,
through the vaulted archway
over the courtyard,
the stone, enchanted
by roseate light.

dispossessed keys,
copper blue,
flooding the alley;
some are bullet-shaped, 
others, circular,
wedding rings;
in the shadows,
they are fingernails
piled up, scratching
at the retaining wall.




Trying to Get Out
   -after To The Ghetto, Samuel Bak

Rocks are flattened
into footprints,
the ghetto wall,
a breaker for waves.

Wet pink light
the cobblestones.

Near the end of the path,
the burlap sack
opens its deranged mouth,

the body
of the sack
as if something
were trying
to get out.


Carol Dine is a poet, essayist, and college teacher who lives in Brookline MA. She is the author of three books of poetry, Trying to Understand the Lunar Eclipse, Naming the Sky and Van Gogh in Poems. Her highly-regarded memoir in poetry and prose, “Places in the Bone” explores the redemptive power of art.

Samuel Bak's images provided courtesy of Pucker Gallery, Boston, MA