Abra Bertman

Corks and Stoppages
 
Now you’ll say that all this
talk of corks and stoppages
is just a luxurious reddening
of a perfectly good morning.
 
You’ll point to bark and beak,
the pulse of light on the lake
and the smell of bacon
wafting down to the dock,
and titter that Vesuvius could
never burst in a beech forest
on a lake at this latitude.
 
You’ll fine me for muttering
about the things that won’t out,
the fire and the cluttered stones
that stop the morning, genie-ing it
into a rose-glassed bottle
and siphoning liquor back
into the arms of ripe fruit.
 
You’ll snigger at the little hill
and say it won’t spout, but
the strain of earth could burst
at the lightest thumbprick,
rising into the sky in a grey-aired
poof and hailing red rocks
onto the breakfast table.
 
Shall we take a swim?
A bird, a boat, a lodging sway
lyrical as a watercolor
of girls spreading petals
before a feast. The air is warm
and welcoming. The joy
of an inland gull colors the sky.
 
 
 
 
 
Abra Bertman is an American poet who writes and teaches writing in Amsterdam. Although actively producing poetry for decades, she has only lately perused publication. Recent poems have appeared in Other Poetry and the Midwest Literary Magazine. She is also author of the poem “When the World Comes Home,” the product of a long-standing collaboration with jazz pianist Franz von Chossy, which appears in the cd of the same name.