2 poems

by Robyn Schroeder

for both our sakes (rose)

At my great aunt’s funeral

I was given a metaphor

that only bloomed once

every three years

and needed so much care

that I couldn’t possibly

slake its thirst with my tear-stained heart

and it inevitably died

from lack of windowsill

nutrients

soil

so I cleaned out the pot

and I planted a new metaphor

a little less delicate

for both our sakes

soft linen

How we are trouble in soft linen, 

the Tigress, the Lioness, and 

Sin.

We find the stars to be 

guilty of fascination 

and fortune-telling.

So we paint constellations 

and stars,

divine the meaning of

Freckles and Pigment and

Scars. 

There is none, but

what we give them,

Ancient and Woven and

Skin.

For a moment we are more magic

than sisters.

Robyn Schroeder is a graduate of Truman State University. She enjoys making an adventure out of anything. Her work has been published in Prairie Margins.