“Love Trouble,” by Edith Goldenhar

Categories:

Love Trouble

I’m with your husband the widower.
But you and I, skeined to one other,
don’t speak any language.
I become one of your eulogists.
I wear the letter S.

You’re the car I almost hit.
Geese honk across the field—You?
As for size, you grow and grow.

But in this home, we must govern.
Who shall be yolk and who the white?

Fugitive wife: You won’t fold
into a box. Can I fly you, like a kite?

—-

Edith Goldenhar’s poems have appeared in decomP, Hawai’i Review, Indiana Review, The Laurel Review, and The Mom Egg, and are forthcoming in The Alembic, Salamander, and Whiskey Island. With an MA in English from the City College of New York and an MS in business and public policy from SUNY Stony Brook, she works as a consultant and writer in the nonprofit sector. She served as the first program director of Poets House in New York City and has led workshops at the Frost Place in Franconia, New Hampshire.