MAGGIE SAWKINS

Celery Soup
 

I fetch the chair from the Formica table
to reach into the cupboard

take the butterfly opener
from the drawer and turn and turn
till the ragged edge lifts.

The creamy liquid plops into the pan
and I stir in a figure of eight
the way she taught me to.

I lay the tray with salt and pepper
arrange triangles of sliced white bread.

I carry it up to her bedroom
where she is propped against the pillow,
steam warms her face but she doesn’t smile
because every Friday they burn her skin
and they’ve taken her breast away.

It feels like a dream

except my footprints are still there
embedded in the blueness
of a blue kitchen chair.

Anamaria Comes

Maggie Sawkins
 

Supa de telina

Aduc scaunul de la masa Formica
S-ajung la bufet

Iau tirbusonul
Din sertar si-l rasucesc, il rasucesc
Pana cand marginea turtita se ridica.

Lichidul cremos galgaie-n tigaie
Iar eu amestec in opt
Cum ea m-a invatat.

Presar sare si piper in tava
Aranjez triunghiurile de paine alba feliata.

O duc sus in dormitorul ei
Unde ea sta pe o perna,
Aburul ii incalzeste fata, dar nu zambeste
Pentru ca in fiecare Vineri ii ard pielea
Si i-au luat un san
 

Pare un vis

Numai ca urmele mele sunt inca acolo
Intiparite-n albastrimea
Unui albastru scaun de bucatarie.