after Little Girl in a Blue Armchair by Mary Cassatt 


You will own redundant matching chairs, small 

beasts to nap beside you unawares of 

decades you were not left alone at all

by depressives deprived their alcohol.  Love

was bartered for your battery.   Hunched 

in places hoping they wouldn’t see, a 

tiny, spiny animal amongst 

two great grey owls, you dreamt of days 

of peace inside a wood no one prowls,

exposing your belly, legs akimbo 

in Tartan socks, a petulant scowl

in an oversized bow.  You couldn’t know 

you will furnish a forest of your own 

in which the smallest of beasts are left alone.

Kristin Garth is a Pushcart, Rhysling nominated sonneteer and a Best of the Net 2020 finalist.  Her sonnets have stalked journals like Glass, Yes, Five:2:One, Luna Luna and more. She is the author of 21 books of poetry including Crow Carriage (Sweet Tooth Story Books) and The Stakes (Really Serious Literature) and the editor of seven anthologies. She is the founder of Pink Plastic House a tiny journal and co-founder of Performance Anxiety, an online poetry reading series. Follow her on Twitter:  (@lolaandjolie) and her website