Compass

This one pirouettes on pointe, tracing a graceful circle,
until my hand wobbles, wrecking its penciled orbit.

Where’s the one that will take me straight home—without going in circles?

This is my first sijo, a Korean form consisting of three lines of 14-16 syllables. The first line introduces a concept, the second develops it, and the third incorporates a twist. In some ways it is like a haiku but it allows the use of metaphor and other literary devices. The longer lines also give the writer more room to breathe. Tricia of The Miss Rumphius Effect featured sijo earlier in the month in her National Poetry Month series Jumping into Form.

Scissors

I try to follow
the model black lines.
I try to trace
their shape.
But what can I do
with my fingers tied,
roped together
like we’ve done
something wrong,
my acrobat hands
crammed into claws
that pinch and gnaw
the paper?
Everyone else
makes a smooth-edged
masterpiece.
All I get is a ruffled, crumpled mess.

© Elizabeth Steinglass, all rights reserved, 2015

Pencil Sharpener

Twisting and turning,
spinning and whirling,

throwing off heaps
     of wrap-around skirts
          with sun-colored trim at the hem.

Catching and keeping,
hiding and peeking,

saving the shavings
     that nobody wants
          in this little white box in my desk.

© Elizabeth Steinglass, all rights reserved, 2015