ISSUE 17
August 2001

Barbara Griest-Devora

 

Barbara Griest-Devora teaches English and creative writing at Northwest Vista College. Her poems have appeared in The Texas Observer, Spoon River Poetry Review, The Sycamore Review, and many others.
Life Choices    Click to hear in real audio


To tell it now, I'd say my lovers had been delicate and numerous
as the rib bones of a snake, yet I picked them like small apples
to carry in a covered basket, and I waited for the wolf.

Then there came the one that almost swallowed me whole until I pulled
out his gold teeth and made myself a ring, blew out of his brick
house and built a rocking boat, named all the animals, and rested.

After leaving behind dolls and superheroes, I had armed myself
with a pickaxe and treasure map, bumped my head on the full moon
and finally found a velvet-lined violin case to curl up in.

It was that I had trouble at the market, choosing a fish for dinner,
until a friend told me this, said it slowly so I'd know it was important:
It's the eyes. You pick the one with the prettiest eyes.

 

 

 

Barbara Griest-Devora: Poetry
Copyright 2001 The Cortland Review Issue 17The Cortland Review