photo credit: John F. Martin

Diane Kirsten Martin has been published on Poetry Daily, in Field, New England Review, Crazyhorse, Third Coast, North American Review, 32 Poems, Tar River Review, CutBank, and Nimrod, among others. She was selected by B.H. Fairchild for second place in the Nimrod/Hardman Pablo Neruda Prize in 2004. Her poem, "Mom Poem," nominated by Nimrod, was included in Best New Poets 2005. Diane was a semifinalist in the 2006 "Discovery"/Nation competition. She has received a Pushcart Special Mention and won the Erskine J. Poetry Prize from Smartish Pace. She lives in San Francisco.

Diane's collection, Conjugated Visits was pubished by Dream Horse Press in spring 2010.

Other poems:

• Lorraine Asks Should She Have a Baby
• Life Could be a Dream, Sweetheart
• Changing the Weather
• Fraught with Danger

Visit Diane's blog.

Email Diane at dianekmartin@sbcglobal.net

Sonhar

I can’t translate the blue of wisteria.
There are many things of which we could not speak—

that he held me down to blue carpets, lips crushed
by obdurate teeth, that seven different purples
populate the garden; it’s the blue I need.

It was so cold that winter, he could never warm me.
My lips were blue. We were afraid, I think,

This is not about the color of memory.
I could make up something more true.

My blood. His fingers.
Blood has the salinity of oceans, but is warmer.

Dried lavender smells so blue, bees will visit the memory.

What is the Portuguese for dreaming?
The purpose of memory?

What of his friend who stops me at night
(in blue light, a hallway), saying,
He wants you. Why do you not go to him?

First published in New England Review. Copyright © Diane K. Martin

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