Sheila-Na-Gig online

Poetry

Sarah Diamond Burroway

SarahSarah Diamond Burroway is a Kentucky writer and theatre artist. Her creative nonfiction and poetry has been published in Still: The Journal, The Bitter Southerner and The Worcester Journal. Sarah’s writing has been featured in the Women of Appalachia Project’s “Women Speak” (2014-2017) and has been included in the project’s two anthologies. Her plays and monologues have been produced in New York, California, West Virginia, Ohio and Kentucky. Sarah is director / co-founder of Actors for Children Theatre and is Vice President of the Kentucky Theatre Association. Sarah works as Director of External Relations for Ohio University Southern. She is pursuing her Master of Fine Art in Writing at Eastern Kentucky University’s Bluegrass Writers Studio.

Fried Green Tomatoes

Yellow stars burst in all directions.
Anchored to Earth by stalks.
Push toward the sky. Grow taller. Explode.
Tiny green orbs expand. Hang heavy.
Once, small like thumbprints.
Now, each fills my palm with delicious curves.

Three will be supper.
Plucked, their star-crowns discarded.
Washed. Green skin sliced.
Dredged in a cloud of cornmeal.
A black hole of cast iron for their orbit.
The kitchen breathes their tart, earthy fragrance.

I serve you first, only the best pieces,
on the plate from our childhood.
Chipped rim on a timeworn moon.

Crows

As the crow flies, she sees a mosaic of
bright plastic bottles as green water
rocks the silent rhythm of shuttered foundries
where ghosts’ sweat is a blue collar wage.

She is the Ohio. Rolling and flowing
and searching for ebb tide to wash off the pain.
Soundless and soft, she melts in a puddle
shed from a red-rimmed gaze of regret.

As the crow cries, she weeps for the
last, lost hopes of a sad steel town.
Half boarded up, meth’ed up. Dreams fade
for girls who grow up with hopes of a good life.
Ambition forsaken, drowned by defeat.

She is love sick, no hope sick.
Dope sick and nowhere to go but her nest of
cardboard, found objects and fire. She lights up,
breathes in and flies, eyes black like the crow.

Save

%d bloggers like this: