Rose Mary Boehm: Three poems

A Marriage

The rain girl 

lives in her dreams, 

and in a house without a roof,

where mushrooms push 

through the carpet,

and a beehive is forcing 

its tumorous growth

through the piano strings.

.

As weightless as a new soul 

she stares at him in distress.

And why would she remember 

lightness now?

.

Waterways

The green girl waited at the pier.

Hovered around the black pylons,

wet and rotting, lashed by the waves,

painted in abstracts

by sea moss.

.

Fernando pushed out his boat.

Young, brown, muscular and carefree.

The birds screeched in anticipation

of his return. Sea lions pretended

not to notice. Nets neatly rolled,

ready for an early winter catch.

Oil lamp in the bow.

.

She slid into the lancha. Undulated, 

coiled beneath the tackle. Weeks later

they found him washed up on the beach

near turtle rock, a smile on his blue lips.

.

The Expert

It took me years to become

who I am, connoisseur

of the latest in art,

specialist in Wertheimer’s

collages made entirely

from butterfly wings.

Nightly I wake in

cold sweat, ambushed

by a profusion of 

accusing soft caresses.

.

---

A German-born UK national, Rose Mary Boehm lives and works in Lima, Peru. Author of seven poetry collections, her work has been widely published in US poetry journals. 

These poems were first published in The Rain Girl (Chaffinch Press, Ireland, 2020). Included in Vox Populi by permission of the author.

Image: Close-up of Tiger Butterfly wing (Christopher Johnson)

Poems copyright 2020 Rose Mary Boehm