A dress spread out
carefully on the floor,
laid on its back as though
a woman had stepped out
in her slip and smoothed
the silky fabric
on the carpet, making sure
the bodice was strait,
the hem sharp and unwrinkled.
Lying there it could be
a ghost or an invisible girl,
staring at the ceiling with her
lost eyes as if some answer
were written in the pebbled
roughness, a code to explain
the vivid stripes of red and blue
running down the skirt, streams
pouring into the cauldron of the sea.
Steve Klepetar lives in Saint Cloud, Minnesota. Several of his poems have been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. Recent collections include My Son Writes a Report on the Warsaw Ghetto and The Li Bo Poems, both from Flutter Press.
Steve Klepetar lives in Saint Cloud, Minnesota. Several of his poems have been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net. Recent collections include My Son Writes a Report on the Warsaw Ghetto and The Li Bo Poems, both from Flutter Press.
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