Two Poems by Sandra Fees

— after Jane Kenyon

Sometimes an ear is a tiny canyon.

Sometimes winter goes on and
on. Sleet hisses against the shutters.

Sometimes the sink is full of dishes
and I can remember
the roses you brought me.

They stood upright in time.



When you grow tired of a marriage
place the smooth placebo moon against the tongue.

When you grow tired of appeasing
swallow the moon. Let your expectations
fall. Let the tides of endorphins rise.

You didn’t just imagine it.

The slender moon visible in the western
sky just after sunset can make you believe
anything, can make you believe you too
can arouse oceans & circle planets,

that your body too will soon wax
imperturbable & full.


Sandra Fees has been published in SWWIM, River Heron Review, Harbor Review, and other journals. The author of The Temporary Vase of Hands (Finishing Line Press, 2017), she lives in southeastern Pennsylvania.