WOODEN GODDESS
You don’t know me
but stare at my hard, brown belly
as if it were my brain
mocking you
As I stand guard
on your shelf from night’s yawn
till morning winks a billion blinks
pile up dust shawls over my wooden skin
You might fear or revere
my definitive demeanor
my resolve, the way space must
curve and arch
Around my impossible beauty
But stop, please
each day and
hear the music
I have soaked
from my roots to yours
It resounds in bold buttery
waves over oceans
and through guitar strings
to the umbilical where life crawled
from that mysterious mother
who carried your love

Tamra Plotnick’s poetry and prose works have been published in many journals and anthologies, including: Serving House Journal; The Waiting Room Reader, Global City Review and The Coachella Review. Her poetry collection In the Zero of Sky is forthcoming from Assure Press. She has performed her work in multimedia shows at a range of venues in New York City where she lives. She dances samba and raqs sharki, teaches high school, and lingers with friends and family when not writing poetry.
Learn more about Tamra at
tamraplotnick.net and assurepress.org/tamraplotnick
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