Strawberry
Heart unbruised
by desire.
You trail no blood or violence,
but are sweet to your core, from which
white rays shine
as if the heart of your heart
were an invisible star.
When I bite into you,
my teeth crunch the seeds
other fruits hide.
You wear them gaily, the way
trusting people
wear love on their sleeves.
Foolish little fruit
with your crown of green,
your summer hat that reminds me
of a hula skirt
and tropical islands,
women armed only with flowers
greeting strange ships.
Snowstorm
A man’s black eyes roll over me,
cool basalt across shoulders, thighs,
slide from my knees
back to a newspaper of sickled alphabet
I do not understand.
I turn again to waves of snow
outside my train window:
Opaque world
where secrets, lashed by wind,
howl unheard truths.
I am immaculate,
untranslated in this whiteness.
My eyes darken,
my whole body softens.
Tonight, I swear,
I will bring home to you this desire,
I will not discard it this time
along the tracks of my day.
Tonight,
I will deliberately finger
parted thoughts for you,
melt boundaries,
speak a perilous tongue.
You Know How It Is
You know how it is
when you’re raw with hurt.
You leave your room
and walk into an evening
sure strangers will stare.
But they pass by without looking
and the soft September air
does not scrape as you thought it would.
An elderly man nods on a park bench,
children shout from swings.
The world turns lavender like when you were small,
a full moon rises from rooftops.
The little girl you are watching
flings arms wide to hold it
as she dances for her father.
You see his love for her
when he turns toward you,
you see his kindness and look away,
but keep it inside as you keep
the moon and the child,
all that mystery
trembling at the cusp.
Francine Marie Tolf’s essays and poems have been published in numerous journals. She is the author of four full-length poetry collections, most recently Spill Some New Brightness (Pinyon Press, 2022). She has also published a memoir, an essay collection, and a number of chapbooks. Francine is grateful for all of the poems that have been accepted over the years by GHLL including the three that appear in this issue. She is extremely grateful for the generosity and support of its poetry editor, Joseph Benevento.