Inventory of Shapes by Carol Berg

Lip-shape. Little-flame shapes, flicker-shaped.  Waxy-pink

-petaled shape.

                          Shape of your nose—generational-shape?

The shape of your lips on my breasts.

                                                              The shape my throat

makes swallowing champagne. Toasty bubbles.

 

The shape the ocean makes giving up

                                                              a twenty-pound thrashing striper.

 

Spider web shapes in dew on June grass.

Shape of your rounded shoulder in

my favorite gray tee. Shape of your

                                                              clavicle under my fingertip.

 

Shape the downy woodpecker’s

                                                  tail gripping onto the suet cage.

Shape of my son’s smile reaching

 

                                                              into his brown eyes.

 

 

The shape of our bodies as we lie

                                                              on the bed and I turn myself

                                                              towards you. 

 

 

The shape of the Squannacook river as it runs

                                                                            over the large brown rocks.

 

 

                                     Unidentified shape of the wind tossing

                                     the crests of the tall pine trees on August’s

                                     most shapeless of days.

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Carol Berg’s poems are forthcoming or in Crab Creek Review (Poetry Finalist, 2017), DMQ Review, Sou’wester, The Journal, Spillway, Redactions, Radar Poetry, and Verse Wisconsin. Her recent chapbook, The Johnson Girls, is available from dancing girl press. She was winner of a scholarship to Poets on the Coast and a recipient of a Finalist’s Grant from the Massachusetts Cultural Council.