The Woman In The Sculpture Garden Has My Breasts

by Shaun Pankoski


It is autumn. 
Still, it's warm for November
and no one is here, 
save for a few students, 
wandering and sketching, 
an old man on a bench. I try 
to identify the bronzes by style,
placed here and there 
in a casual precision
that comes so naturally in Japan.
When I come upon her-
the outstretched arms, 
the torso twist, the pointed toe-
she speaks to me. It does me no good
to read the unreadable plaque.
I take the pose. The carrion crows, 
smart and dangerous, caw sharply. 
Oh, Karasu, do you mock me 
for what I have lost, 
or cheer for me, in a land
where no one dares to look
anywhere but down?


* * * * *

Author's note: 'Karasu' is the Japanese word for 'crow.' 

Shaun R. Pankoski (she/her) is a poet most recently from Volcano, Hawaii. A retired county worker and two time breast cancer survivor, she has lived on both coasts as well as the Midwest as an artist’s model, modern dancer, massage therapist and honorably discharged Air Force veteran. Her poems have appeared in several literary journals and blogs including Verse Virtual, ONE ART, Poetry Breakfast and Sheila-na-Gig.