The BlueIris Semi-Nightly Poem Thread, 10/3/07 [View All]

[BlueIris]

—from "33"

"Sonnet 1"

Everything that happens to me these days
is dangerous with love. I'm a witch
at full moon. I can't be sure
of anyone. I stiffen if I'm grazed
by and arm or a hand combs through my hair.
I won’t drink out of a strange cup or use
borrowed clothing. Everything is infused
with hazard and imagination's power,
stronger than actual. I won't accept
dinner invitations in case magic
powders have been disguised in the garlic
seasonings. But my house, though protected
with charms, can't block the spell mortality
has cast, thirty-two, I turn thirty-three.

—Julia Alvarez