Fiction   Essays   Poetry  The Ten On Baseball Chapbooks In Memory

Susan Alkaitis


My kiss is too hard,
you told me once.
Now, when I watch
you close your eyes,
your gentle mouth
against mine,
I imagine myself
as cement.
I have to restrain.

Rare Bird

You dive
to me then shoot
away, circling then gone
because you donít prey.

I search the sky for your wings,
A plummeting speck
then you appear
from nothing and I blink.

If I could pray I would
bleach my marrow and fall
away from the earth
to follow you.

©2010 by Susan Alkaitis

Susan Alkaitis works for an international environmental organization in Colorado, where she lives with her husband and young son. She has a BA in creative writing from Colorado College, and an MFA in Dance from the University of Utah.

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