A Poem by Suzanne Frischkorn
One of the poet-bloggers whose work I deeply admire is Suzanne Frischkorn of Lit Windowpane. I have had some time recently to spend with American Flamingo (Menendez Publications, 2008), her lush, elegant, beautifully produced chapbook; a collection of 15 poems concerned with Cuba--as memory, as family myth, as metaphor for loss and desire. It's difficult to describe the chapbook and its poems, simply because they are so beautiful--as if Dante had written a travel brochure for Paradise--and description does not do them adequate service.
Anyway, here is one of my favorites, the opening poem from Suzanne Frischkorn's American Flamingo:
Conch shell pink, this sky echoes an ocean; a song weighted with pearls and sea glass. Mercedes, what did you make of Miami? Did it taste like sunlight on your wrist? White mariposa replaced by ribbon orchid. Jasmine, a scent of dreams. And flamenco? Las Guajiras? Castanets cast on the ground. Your granddaughter will seek you in a hundred mirrors. In Castile, in Cuba, she'll twine a history with silver thread. The ocean will race up to whisper in her ear.