The Turnip

Judith Skillman

Once more you force
its fisted mass. Blanched white
with a feather of pink—
the bloodless promise?
Has the chemistry of want
exploded the dreamy cluck
of that heart in your chest?
Under the sky, the grave
of dawn’s planted again—
its beginning wed
to the same milky stone.

Judith Skillman’s recent book is House of Burnt Offerings from Pleasure Boat Studio. Her work has appeared in Cimarron Review, J Journal, Seneca Review, Tampa Review, Prairie Schooner, FIELD, The Iowa Review, Poetry, and elsewhere. Awards include an Eric Mathieu King Fund grant from the Academy of American Poets.

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