“Mother’s Wishbones, No Doubt” by Ruth Sabath Rosenthal
furculae with not a fragment
of dried-up flesh or sinew
to despoil their luster —
the slew of them ranging
in size from Cornish hen
to turkey. Funny,
I’d never noticed Mother
extricate any, let alone
strip them clean,
secrete them somewhere
long-forgotten. I stumbled
across those old bones —
took possession of the best
of them, pried
loose some of my own from
birds broiled, barbequed, fried;
primed each, applied gold leaf.
Made more of them
than she could ever have
conceived — the gilt,
over those generations of bones
brittling whole, striking
beneath the wait of wishes.
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RUTH SABATH ROSENTHAL is a New York poet, well published in the U.S. and,
also, internationally. In October 2006, her poem “on yet another birthday” was nominated
for a Pushcart prize. Ruth has authored five books of poetry: “Facing Home” (a chapbook) —
“Facing Home and beyond”– “little, but by no means small” — “Food: Nature vs Nurture”
and “Gone, but Not Easily Forgotten.” The books can be purchased from Amazon.com.
Please feel free to visit Ruth’s website: www.newyorkcitypoet.com and, also, her blogsite:
www.poetrybyruthsabathrosenthal.com
