Maya Sonenberg

I really liked Maya Sonenberg's piece "Forest" in Diagram issue 12.3 here. While I usually don't go in for work like this, her piece is really great. There were so many excellent poetic lines, I had to feature it.  It almost has a myth or fairytale type quality, with an edge of Italian, or French medieval type images. I hope Sonenberg writes more verse, as she's very talented.

Here are some of my favorite lines:

Forest

Winter

Inside each of us is a dark reservoir. 

[...]
   That night the soldiers camp by a stream, and the girl beds down nearby. Did the 
young soldier come to her and touch her lip with just one finger? More? In the 
morning, she hears nothing: the army is gone. From the top of the rise, she sees the 
platoon below, readying the howitzers.
[...]
   She much prefers lying in the hammock strung between the black locust trees, 
[...]
   Down in the forest, preteen girls run between the trees. Their bare white torsos shine, and their golden hair flags out behind them. A hand grabs a trunk. Then a whoop of delight rings back up the hill. 
[...]

Autumn

Over the mountain, gray clouds mask the orange moon. The wind brings down a 

whoosh of leaves. Holly berries and prickly buckeye conkers blot the forest floor. Last 

sun meets first frost. In her chest, the woman rages, in her heart. [...]