by Nina Clements

Published in Issue No. 239 ~ April, 2017

Jacaranda blossoms on the sidewalk,

stomped upon until their purple bruises

the white heat. The cat steps so carefully

 

inside the apartment; long nails on wood

clatter like a cane. Should she be allowed

to live out days until she can’t sustain

 

breath any longer? Her fur falls away,

but she still steps on ants, crunches them sans

teeth. Is the protein a problem for her

 

kidneys? She is frail and would be pale if

she were an old, old woman. She would be

translucent, clear, but in love with colors.

account_box More About

Nina Clements earned an MFA from Sarah Lawrence College. She currently works as a librarian in Southern California.
Search
Submission Guidelines
Support Pif Magazine
About Pif
Contact Us
Masthead
Copyright Notice
Archives
Read More Poetry
Share on Facebook
Share on Twitter