The Outer Park
City walls protect nothing
but my skin
from sun
too late
when I sit close enough to hear
city bees
make city buzz
among white clover
& butterfly pairs
The Saved
Four days after earthquake
man is brought up‐ breathing
from under whatever it was before
and everybody cheers
Four days after rape
woman walks out her door
alone
Just one of them survives
a month
The Three Brides
Three more have spun titanium
dioxide to weave veils
and one has learned to wear hers
before her face
See how she fades
from our cloud of slender arms
sepia hair and skirts grown into tails
One still wears a wimple but raises hand to heart
so we can recognize ourselves
her lepers to help
We press our hands to prayer around her robes
The third made a mistake
and braided up two horns
even should she learn
not to see us
Sheʹll always carry something
of our two‐color world
Elizabeth Kate Switaj