Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, LIES, by JANE MILLER


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

LIES, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Probably no one noticed the mornings I disappeared to sit
Last Line: The little mothers and sisters.
Subject(s): Lies; Mothers & Daughters; Poetry & Poets; Sisters


Probably no one noticed the mornings I disappeared to sit
in the trees. The light swarmed my face while I recited
sonnets, each last line forlorn but with a tooth in it.
I felt like God, only smaller, flailing my body in and out
of the upper twigs. I lay in a spider's hammock,

the deafening noise of the leaves like Claire's eyelashes.
We were never two sisters sleeping uninterruptedly. Larvae
in their cold dresses. The tree dragged me down against
my will. I ran my hand defiantly through those leafy underarms,
like a bar of soap in the mouth of a child. A lie

is a cold hand with a light on it. It smacks the cowardly
yellow chrysalis and all the little enemies spill out, all
the little mothers and sisters.





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