They Would Have Come through Petra (by Rose Mary Boehm)

 

They would Have Come through Petra

Haroun, Haroun. My lover
was buried in Mont Seir,
in Rekem, in the sanctuary,
by those who made water
spring from rocks
in the desert city.

Entombed in solid rock he lies
until the earth once more
splits the stone, lets water
run again into the Wadi.

Since the eighteenth dynasty
I have been waiting
where the valley opens
onto the plains, where I shall
hold the desert winds
with my breath,
waiting for the rain.

* * * * *

A German-born UK national, Rose Mary Boehm lives and works in Lima, Peru. Author of two novels and a poetry collection (Tangents), her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in US poetry reviews. Toe Good Poetry, Poetry Breakfast, Burning Word, Muddy River Review, Pale Horse Review, Pirene’s Fountain, Other Rooms, Requiem Magazine, Full of Crow, Poetry Quarterly, Punchnel’s, Avatar, Verse Wisconsin, Naugatuck River Review, Boston Literary, Red River Review, Ann Arbor, Main Street Rag, Misfit Magazine and others.

Reasonable Request (by Rose Mary Boehm)

 

Reasonable Request 

Saying ‘she slept and never woke’

sounds like running water

under the stone bridge

somewhere over the Carwinley Burn.


I want my death to approach me softly,

like a child sliding in socks

along a marble floor.

* * * * *

A German-born UK national, Rose Mary Boehm lives and works in Lima, Peru. Author of two novels and a poetry collection (Tangents), her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in US poetry reviews. Toe Good Poetry, Poetry Breakfast, Burning Word, Muddy River Review, Pale Horse Review, Pirene’s Fountain, Other Rooms, Requiem Magazine, Full of Crow, Poetry Quarterly, Punchnel’s, Avatar, Verse Wisconsin, Naugatuck River Review, Boston Literary, Red River Review, Ann Arbor, Main Street Rag, Misfit Magazine and others.

Travelling Alone (by Rose Mary Boehm)

 

Travelling Alone 

Late evening in the Barbados Hotel.

I have a daring whisky

on the rocks instead of my usual

ice-cold plebeian beer.

I want to become invisible,

part of the decoration.



I wander between groups—

the name droppers, the old

acquaintances who meet once a year

in this place known to out-price

the riff-raff. A special offer

tonight from the old oil baron

who hopped over on his private jet

from Venezuela.

Need to get out.



The night is warm and fragrant,

the place almost has a roof,

there’s Rasta hair and pungent

clouds of ganja.

I move to the irresistible beat.

No woman, no cry.

* * * * *

A German-born UK national, Rose Mary Boehm lives and works in Lima, Peru. Author of two novels and a poetry collection (Tangents), her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in US poetry reviews. Toe Good Poetry, Poetry Breakfast, Burning Word, Muddy River Review, Pale Horse Review, Pirene’s Fountain, Other Rooms, Requiem Magazine, Full of Crow, Poetry Quarterly, Punchnel’s, Avatar, Verse Wisconsin, Naugatuck River Review, Boston Literary, Red River Review, Ann Arbor, Main Street Rag, Misfit Magazine and others.

Management needs – none reported (by Rose Mary Boehm)

 

Management needs–none reported

Fish swim upside down,
sea anemones burrow
into the underside of the ice shelf,
tentacles protruding into frigid water
like flowers on a ceiling.

Living on the other side of you
I push into your glacial
embrace. On cold nights
I can hear the water drip,
drip from stalactites.

* * * * *

A German-born UK national, Rose Mary Boehm lives and works in Lima, Peru. Author of two novels and a poetry collection (Tangents), her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in US poetry reviews. Toe Good Poetry, Poetry Breakfast, Burning Word, Muddy River Review, Pale Horse Review, Pirene’s Fountain, Other Rooms, Requiem Magazine, Full of Crow, Poetry Quarterly, Punchnel’s, Avatar, Verse Wisconsin, Naugatuck River Review, Boston Literary, Red River Review, Ann Arbor, Main Street Rag, Misfit Magazine and others.