Helen Ruggieri lives in Olean , NY and has a book of
short prose pieces from foothillspublishing.com.  Her
poetry book, Glimmer Girls, is published by Mayapplepress.
com.  Recent work is in Minnesota Review, Hawaii
Pacific Review, Umbrella (online) and elsewhere.



THE WOMEN OF WU
(AFTER THE CHINESE)


on the far hillside
the very top of a temple
pokes into the sun

the door faces east
captures morning
at first light

water trickles
from the sacred spring
over flat slate stones

into a bowl at  the base
spilling over the edge
finding a way to the river

the women of wu
bless themselves
beginning the day

birds trill in the canopy
water flows down
the river drinks it in

sacredness glistens
the surface of the river
with golden ideograms

under the cover of gold
women wash their dark hair
whisper soft prayers




RIVER SUTRA



Under the shade of willows
the river cuts into the bank
appears to cease seeking south
in deep places out of the flow.

The current drags past
hauling leaves and limbs,
letters and plastic,
my parents in their burial clothes,

my children, theirs.
Over this momentary stillness
darkness falls around us.
The current quivers with REMs.

What comes is always coming;
it’s waiting that’s hard to master.





POEM IN A BOTTLE


Squatting on rocks
edging the river
we pass paper and pen
along the lose curved row
each adding a line
sinuous as the river.

“If you find this poem,
add a line and send it back.”
I roll it up and stick it
in the bottle.

I toss it into the current.
An eddy brings it back.
I try again, again,
until the current catches it.

We wait, fishermen,
waiting for a nibble.
Like Buddha
under the bo tree
waiting for the answer
to float back.



INTRODUCTION TO EXPECTATIONS

1

a fern pressed in an old book
still green
though time has  piled on
all its weight

2

hiding in the TV set
carrying a sack of air
which it lets out slooowly
playing “I’m in the mood
for love” like a fruity saxophone
about to reveal your heart’s desire
cuts to a commercial

3
under the bark of trees
it calls in a creaky voice as limbs
limbs flail
learns swaying
to go with the wind
a hard lesson
but it teaches endurance

4
is fat
lives in the dessert
hoards dictionaries
thesauri
makes a lush field
of flowering syntax

5

is lean
lives with marrow and water
the first words the mother sang
were cut   cut   cut
bones show through
the thin shift of skin

6

moonlight falls full from its eyes
oh, pathetic, says the lean one
fallacy says the fat one
they duet that croony tune
while it skates across black ice
on cloven hooves        
7.

a dart stuck in the heart
of the most dangerous animal
understands “least resistance”
rises up the color of twilight
in the headlights of strangers                
too late to stop
swerve or don’t
end up facing back
a scrim of red across the windshield

8

oh, it does tricks –
rolls over, begs, plays dead
if we knew what more to teach it
anything might happen
but what might we expect
it’s had its way with us

9

at sunset it rises full
the color of ripe wheat
in a sky stained Zinfandel
open wide
swallow without chewing
walk back to your pew



SONG OF THE WOMEN OF OLEAN


the rhythm of the river
lapping on the rocks


the cry of  an owl
in the willows


the hard wind driving
woodsmoke across  fields


a deer crashing
through the brush


the women of Olean
erased by the wind


in the long winter
baffled and muffled


listening for melody
under bare trees
Helen Ruggieri