DECEMBER POETRY

Sassamanash

By

Ilona Martonfi

Nor’easter

across the marsh

high tides

unbarked, unpainted —

the purplest place

wild cranberry bogs,

the day that outer cape,

sassamanash, pink wild rose

cedar fence —

falling into the sea

the shack we always went to —

it’s hard to imagine

that nineteen years have gone.

My father died in this cottage

apu’s last winter.

Snow on this boardwalk.

Snow on this beach.

Red Apes

By

Ilona Martonfi

As fires burn in peat swamp forest

shaggy, orange-brown great ape

her hand chopped,

Kesi remembers music

elephants in leg chains

timber on river barges

earth

sky

through the eyes of an orangutan

her gnarled fingers

how can this occur?

logging trucks

villagers in Teluk Kabung on the

island of Sumatra,

used to grow coconuts

loud, roaring courtship call

giving birth to wrinkled, toothless

infant

chewing spiny nuts, bark

leaves, fruit,

climbing dead trees

lilac haze

Kesi raised with a surrogate mother