Clara Burghelea





Light hauls me out of bed, Greek sun

piercing the old shutters. A slipper,


soft as a creature, lies at the wooden

foot of the bed. Your scent lingers


on my breath like a promise. Like

oozing sand. The cry of a ghost bird


slays the air. Limbs stretch the length

of a wall in China. A persimmon in half


on the wrinkled table. Its fork-shaped seed

smiles a mild winter, claims the fruit seller.


It is worth a bite. Outside the window,

the postcard home day peels off in slow motion.


Against the teal-smeared wall, old and new

shadows bear their weight in silence.









Clara Burghelea is a Romanian-born poet with an MFA in Poetry from Adelphi University.  Recipient of the Robert Muroff Poetry Award, her poems and translations have appeared in Ambit, HeadStuff, Waxwing, The Cortland Review and elsewhere.  Her collection The Flavor of The Other will be published by Dos Madres Press in 2020.  She is the current Poetry Editor of The Blue Nib.