Rivalry

I

slept in

awakening
to soft sunshine,

silence.

I
stretched

moving dreams

from deep in
muscles.

Your
words linger
still, haloed loosely

around ears,

a touch of gold,

a slight of hand,

that

rivals Midas,

for every pound

he’s worth.

Aleathia Drehmer 2007

Published by The Cartier Street Review 7/09

Saiyin

His grandmother yells at him every morning,
in a tongue from the old lands of China,
before the bus pulls into the circle, and its yellow hull
lines them up without being corralled.

Defiance marks his face despite
his features being on an even playing field
and he roars back at her, his tongue not as old,
as he reels from her field worn hands.

She is exasperated at what this country
has done to time tested customs of respect
and authority for elders. He baits her
until she begins again.

Aleathia Drehmer 2008

Published by The Cartier Street Review 7/09