Poetry by Barbara Daniels
RED WING

If death is marriage, I’ll marry
the oil stain under my car.
I’ll marry a bright wing. 

Weeds bend their frayed heads
down to dirt, the sky
equivocal, the old pines. 

The door behind me firmly
closed. Windows are darkened
by soot, the footpath spattered 

with blown leaves. My surgery’s
set. I passed the tests. I turn
when a cardinal whistles, 

and branches lift to fleeting
brightness. Darkness amasses
itself under cars and climbs 

low steps to the cold front door.
In Iowa the schoolhouse
was red, the barns. Red paint 

was cheapest on the wide
plains. Not this breast
I write in red on my body. 

Barbara Daniels’ Talk to the Lioness was published by Casa de Cinco Hermanas Press. She has written five other books and chapbooks, including Rose Fever, Black Sails, and Quinn & Marie. Her poetry has appeared in Main Street Rag, Free State Review, Ghost City, Permafrost, Philadelphia Stories, and many other journals. She has received four fellowships from the New Jersey State Council on the Arts.

Read more from Cleaver Magazine’s Issue #50.

Submit to Cleaver!