Unstockinged

Poetry

Jul 13

At last now sun slowly outshouldered by moon
and thumb-hooked silk, monarch-smooth, trends down in the room
where a look to the moon like a camera cut
to a cloud cut through the moon means
foreshadowing— Past your knees seams darned and damned,
darned and dear, let go their mother’s smothering. Now
the heel’s new life of ease. And every drawer in the room now
every room of the moon plays its comfort chord on the catgut sunset.
You’ve been waiting all day for this yes.

Poetry

Stacy Gnall

Stacy Gnall is the author of the poetry collections Dogged (winner of the Juniper Prize for Poetry from The University of Massachusetts Press) and Heart First into the Forest (Alice James Books). Her work has appeared in a number of journals, most recently Pleiades, Massachusetts Review, Bennington Review, and New American Writing. Gnall holds a Ph.D. in Creative Writing and Literature from the University of Southern California, and is also a graduate of the University of Alabama’s MFA program in Creative Writing and Sarah Lawrence College. Originally from Cleveland, Ohio, she is currently Poet-in-Residence at the University of Detroit Mercy.

Unstockinged

letters to [and from] Pablo

Eve