Imperfect Talisman

They follow nose-to-tail round
my neck, rough-carved and poorly strung,
dark Pisces twins conjoined.

Some fish eyes stare wide, some
narrow with uncertainty.
They see both sides,

black/white, this, that—
swim in two directions
contend with opposing currents.

That thinnest pair may split,
fall away as others have.
The string may break again,

loose yet another
from the charmed ring.
Abrasion has softened their edges—

the stain applied so long ago
is wearing off. Their ivory
is showing through.

-Carol Brockfield
Women Writers, June 2009

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About Carol Foreman Brockfield

Poet in Medford, Oregon
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