Sarah Ann Winn’s writing has appeared widely in many publications, online and in print. Her first full length poetry collection, Alma Almanac, won the 2016 Barrow Street Book Prize and will be published by Barrow Street Press in 2017, and she is the author of four chapbooks: Portage (Sundress Publications, 2015), Haunting the Last House on Holland Island, Fallen into the Bay (Porkbelly Press, 2016), Field Guide to Alma Avenue and Frew Drive (Essay Press, 2016), and Ever After the End Matter (forthcoming, Hermeneutic Chaos Press). Other work has appeared in such journals as Codex, Five Points, Hayden’s Ferry Review, Massachusetts Review, and Tupelo Quarterly. Sarah currently serves as Reviews Editor for Tinderbox Poetry Journal and is the founder of Poet Camp, a roving residency for women writers. She lives in Manassas, Virginia, where she teaches poetry workshops and lives with her husband, two lovely dogs, and one bad cat.
you could be sucked away.
the distant pout of stars.
it like a pet, a wolf half-tamed.
you say It’s just anxiety.
to know that tears are implied.
Mariah Carey in a fur halo.
a little love song, ringing.
blooming out of olive wood.
only shade and lapping waves.
they float on lakewater memory.
Is it a solid gold bottle cap painted over?
I spy something which should be put away.
on hand painted entryway tiles?
I spy a doe where an antelope once stood.
coverlet on the Scheherazade bed?
I spy a blank space where a model could pose.
pages of passion too dense to be skimmed.
I spy a mechanical butterfly, no wait, a wind up moth.
past the hydrangea in the garden? Is it even inside?
I spy an artfully arranged collection of antique ring boxes, a set of silences in a row.
no longer listed for sale, is it something sold out.
with current if we decide to go in.
Our kitchen shades a trout nest.
We see tadpoles at breakfast, and never cringe.
orchard on the shore, clothes which never dry on the line.
in our newly installed Arctic chill waterbed.