Sara Amis

S a r a  A m i s

Kindred Spirits Worry Me          

the ghost of Virginia haunting the Ouse, Frida

floating down the river singing

like a banshee, like Ophelia, like Elizabeth Siddal,

like the Lady of Shalott, dead, mad, and a poet

like La Llorona weeping for her children

all the words she would never find, the paintings unpainted,

drowned. Let the going forth be joyful.

dead, mad, and a poet