Karen Neuberg

---

 

Years Now, She's Dead

Cold storage keeping my heart. Packed
in dry sobs, silent in plaid. Her tacit
instructions were hewn from a forest of trying.

Too late, my fondness for her imperfection
which she displayed descending out of here.
Her life into the chipping pile, decomposing.

What I miss most differs. Eyes when they
let me in. First note of her voice searching
me out. Her strength of will to keep going.

I want there to be a story to hold that
is less packed, less under the pile of clutter
I am fading into. Soon I will be flattened

into the same dust. My photo, too, among
those in the old box, some child lifting me out,
some child pointing to me, asking, Who's that?

Karen Neuberg 's poetry has appeared in numerous literary journals including Barrow Street, Columbia Poetry Review, Boxcar Poetry Review, and DIAGRAM. She holds an MFA from the New School and is associate editor of Inertia Magazine. Her chapbook, Detailed Still, was published by Poets Wear Prada Press in 2009.