Ring Around Her Neck
She’s taller than you think,
and sun shines off her cinnamon skin.
Her face is small, cheekbones carved
into her face. Shells, blue as a dragonfly,
dangle from her nose. Rings stack
their way up her slender neck, gently
pushing her collarbone downwards,
stretching the muscles. She wears
the rings that tell her wealth, wanting
to show suitors her farmland, fertile
and green. She brushes a bead of sweat
off her forehead, desires a dark-skinned man
who sees past the shimmer of yellow.
Pull Out the Dental Records, Sarge
The car exploded after,
no ID on the body. She,
black and charred, still sat
behind the wheel. She looked
like a statue made of ash;
if touched, she’d crumble.
The coroner noticed a hint of color
on the back of her hand. Faint
outline of a circle, a lady-bug maybe--
pigment, deep within her.
About Rachel Marsom-Richmond:
I graduated with my M.A. from Northern Arizona University in May of 2009, and I graduated with my M.F.A. from Georgia College & State University this May. My poems have appeared in Three Line Poetry, The Bijou Poetry Review, and The Camel Saloon.