Diane G. Martin
One wonders whether this side of the wall,
or that while straddling jagged stones above.
To jump or not to jump, the barren call,
or the lush in the hush of quiet, tall
misgiving? That side beckons open, rough,
though unconfined, a straight shot to the thrall,
which may prove very long or gently small.
Aside and moist, green camouflage, a grove
of cover, fecund refuge. Either sprawl
requires stout shoes and wiry nerves. The fall,
the plunge to lower depths. Release a dove
Into the wild so it can flap, not crawl.
Inside or out? InsÌde out. Like a brawl
of yarns, no knowing how tangled they prove
until unpicked, conundrums garble, stall
in freefall, caught within the fetus caul
that plugs the birth canal. Rough push enough,
and over the high barrier. The ball
of scraps of yarn spools round a straw-stuffed doll.
About the Author
Diane G. Martin, Russian literature specialist, Willamette University graduate, has just been awarded first prize at Lunch Ticket’s Diana Woods Memorial Award for Creative Nonfiction, and has published poetry, prose, and photography in numerous literary journals including New London Writers, Lowestoft Chronicle, Vine Leaves Literary Review, Poetry Circle, Open: Journal of Arts and Letters, Breath and Shadow, the Willamette Review of the Liberal Arts, Portland Review of Art, Pentimento, Twisted Vine Leaves, The Examined Life, Wordgathering, Dodging the Rain, Antiphon, Dark Ink, Gyroscope, Poor Yorick, Rhino, Conclave, Slipstream, Stonecoast Review, Steam Ticket, Pigeonholes, Shantih, Zingara, Shooter, The Grief Diaries, and soon in Lunch Ticket. Long-time resident of San Francisco, CA, Maine, USA, St. Petersburg, Russia, and Sansepolcro, Italy, Diane has traveled throughout much of the world. The themes of exile, disability, and displacement pervade her work. She has recently completed a collection of memoirs.