Teresa White has published two books of poetry, In What Furnace? and Gardenias for a Beast, both from Two Steps Publishing Company. The latter received a positive endorsement from Billy Collins and was nominated for the Pulitzer Prize. Teresa has also been nominated twice for the Pushcart Prize. She has had over three hundred poems published in print and online and is a past contributor to Loch Raven Review. You may contact her at [email protected]
Spring 2011
Table of Contents - Vol. VII, No. 1
Teresa White
Honey, with that beard
you look like a man
who’s discovered something.
Something large.
An island, at least, perhaps
a continent.
I see you there
in your robes and pantaloons
wading with your great staff
through the surf
dying to name the land
as if it belonged to you.
Tonight in the Family Waiting Room
There is a rhododendron Letter to my Late Mother’s Psychiatrist Dear Dr. Cohen, © Teresa White
large as a baby’s head,
a spray of forget-me-nots
tied with shiny ribbon
in the corner vase.
The free coffee has stood so long
it doesn’t taste like coffee, burns
my hands in the Styrofoam cup.
I sip anyway, have work to do.
Until the angel of the Lord appears
to resurrect the dying,
I continue to knit my hands
together, hoping for something
all the King’s men can’t offer.
In the center of the room
two women work a puzzle and turn
pieces with such finesse,
I’ve no doubt they’ll finish
this jigsaw before their father dies
if he’s going to.
Not sure if you heard
that Molly died
three months ago.
She never stopped
talking about you.
The way you’d get
up out of your corner
and pet her hair.
That’s the way
she put it.
I’ve always wondered
why the two of you
never got married.
I guess I’m trying to say
that in all the years we lived
under the same principles,
roof, whatever,
she never stopped
talking about you.
Now, when I try
to remember
even one day
when she was completely
happy, I can’t.
It was always
Dr. Cohen this.
Dr. Cohen that.
She would never
have addressed you
by your first name.
