Oubliette

I turned up that exact snapshot: recognized
nobody, nothing, just as it knew not
either of me. Police radio
chatter & deep calming breaths:
step predicts into its next step heel to toe.

History to blame: makes whatnot so.
You wait in the hall forever for time
to be up. The fire door. The search party.
Skin, bones & the candied spooks kicking
October into November. Tipsy riches that lurk
–look!– just over there itching for war.

Dear world, ignore our ignorance at peril. Meadow
folding a single sheep into its pocket square.
I would not pinch a caterpillar, just hold it on my hand.

Blue the bonnet, wistful the glass that never
tipped the last of red wine left behind. Years I thought
my father’s stopwatch worked so as never to lose time.

Author of the article

Martha Zweig’s four full-length poetry collections include GET LOST, DHP; MONKEY LIGHTNING, Tupelo, and WHAT KIND and VINEGAR BONE, both from Wesleyan University Press. River River Press has scheduled her SNAILS OF THE APOCALYPSE for October, 2026. Her chapbooks are "POWERS," Stinehour Press, Vermont Council on the Arts, and "A SKIRMISH OF HARKS," Jacar e-book. Zweig’s recognitions include Hopwood Awards, a Whiting Award, Pushcart and Best-of-the-Net nominations, and a Warren Wilson MFA. She lives in Vermont where she worked ten years as an advocate for seniors, after ten years handling garments in a pajama factory where she served a term as ILGWU shop chair.