WELCOME. I’m Rose Auslander. After years in Brooklyn, my husband Rick and I moved up to Cape Cod in the summer of 2015. Hoping to share a little sea air . . .
A Brooklyn Poem
Funny — now that we’ve been up in Cape Cod over a half year, my Brooklyn poems are making their way into the world. If you haven’t seen it yet, click here for “Dead Moon, Brooklyn” — a finalist in Tupelo Quarterly’s contest this year: http://www.tupeloquarterly.com/dead-moon-brooklyn-by-rose-auslander/
Your Invitation to a Free Reading at Poet’s House
Fun news — I’ll be one of the readers at Poet’s House the afternoon of Saturday, September 6. The readings will be starting at 1 p.m. I hope you can make it! Click here for more details: Finishing Line Press Fall Poetry Reading.
The Dolphin in the Gowanus
Poetry Month seems so long ago . . . for more poetry, it’s time to pre-order my new book, The Dolphin in the Gowanus. Pre-order deadline August 1. To help support a small poet — and find out what happens to the dolphin — just click here. Thank you!!!
Poems Dedicated to Malaysia Airlines Flight 370
For National Poetry Month 2014, I posted a poem a day (or so), dedicated to Malaysia Airlines Flight 370. Written while working on my MFA at Warren Wilson. Read from the bottom up . . .
Here, the Search
Stops.
Leaking, invisibly
an evaporating cloud.
I Am
Where you are
carried past
you, past
you are. I am cold. I am dark. I am
you, falling. I am taking you in-
side. I am carrying you
under the ocean
inside.
Ghazel of Shards
Dear ones, might a sign appear, if only a shard?
Even if sheered from nothing, a shard.
50 days slipped safely past
you who have disappeared—bequeath a shard.
Wherever you flew, wherever you fell
Dear lost ones, just a shard.
Your spectral lines, your memories, even your
fear clinging somewhere. However sharp, a shard.
Do you remember us?
We wait here. Even for a shard.
If the Sky Shuts Its Eyes
The clouds will start turning black. We should not expect
to see down. Through
nothing
comes nowhere. Yet someone
will expect everything. Maybe plan it. Or just
won’t care
if the co-pilot picks up the phone.
If anyone hears.
When You Ran Out of Air
Sky let you fall.
Ocean swallowed you.
Ocean took you in.
Sky set you free.
Sky let you.
Ocean swallowed.
They Say
I only have brothers. But when the last night
tears loose, flies
blind through the smoke beyond this
realm of air, my sister
will sit with me. Will stitch
ruffles in my ashes, comb my hair, part
the ether between this world and all that —
pull me through properly. She will.
Rose Auslander 