I admire men who lose their wives
without apparent grief. Hardly an hour
passes, before another bauble
dangles from the skipping wrist; and I
admire wives who digest lost love
without apparent sorrow. I also welcome
their tutorials, for my husband’s
loss has brought me such pain, I find it
hard to love again. At each clumsy
step I stumble, bumbling into other
lovers in their secret harbors, busily
rubbing love’s rough cheeks red. Oh, Eros,
take out this arrow, or hurl another
better, that I might live again.

Lisa Low

Lisa Low’s essays, book reviews, and interviews have appeared in The Massachusetts ReviewThe Boston ReviewThe Tupelo Quarterly, and The Adroit Journal. Her poetry has appeared in a variety of literary journals, among them Valparaiso Poetry ReviewPennsylvania EnglishFree State ReviewPhoebeAmerican Journal of Poetry, and Southern Indiana Review.