by Grace Marie Grafton
the exercise of the mind strong enough to explain or neutralize when days' news comes in the locusts of women willing to explode themselves in markets citizens of the world trapped like ants under collapsed buildings or displaced by bombs and the righteous then I'm as full of fear and helpless to act as the time I accidentally crushed the back half of the spider that crawled on my bedroom floor (I was a heedless ten year old) its front convulsing in a last gasp of Oh My Life and I'd caused it we humans seem so unredeemable every day I ask what are we hurtling toward want to carry my kids and grandkids up to the ridge where we'll fill our arms with poppies lupine rising moon poetry each other
Grace Marie Grafton's poetry won first prize in the annual Bellingham Review contest, was a finalist for Nimrod's Pablo Neruda Prize, and was twice nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Her chapbook, Zero, won the Poetic Matrix Press contest. Her book, Visiting Sisters, was published by Coracle Books. Poems recently appear in The Modern Review, Ur*vox, good foot, Spoon River Poetry Review, and may be viewed at poetrymagazine.com (also under G. M.Grafton).
