A labyrinth, a stew of the universe’s intricate innards—lexicon of shape, color, pattern against backdrop of deep-space black speckled with pinprick-stars and a trinity of amoeba-globs: teal, maroon, copper. Spheres, trapezoids, cubes, parallelograms, each scored into integral parts—scaffolding that holds them together. I see a wheel, a stopwatch, compass rose, gears, a libretto, a scroll. Overlaying it all, glides livid-white lava, curled wisps of ribbons, snaking rivers, trails of vapor released—a spirit flow.
Is this creation, unleashed? The center of a black hole, gravitational singularity—a spin dense beyond belief?
is the author of five chapbooks, and three collections from Dos Madres Press:
Swim Your Way Back (2014), A Map and One Year (2018), and Where
Wind Tastes Like Pears (2021). Her work is published in The Adirondack Review,
The Ekphrastic Review, I-70 Review, Juniper, Poet Lore, Naugatuck River Review,
Salamander, and Valparaiso Poetry Review. Her poetry reviews appear in
Author’s website: https://karenlgeorge.blogspot.com/
Emily Carr: Scorned as Timber, Beloved of the Sky
(1932–35), ekphrastic poem by Karen George in MacQueen’s Quinterly
(Issue 6, January 2021)