by Barbara Daniels

She wakes a queen

dressed for the dream

that stunned her (lion

hurtling through white

wooden railings,

saint’s hand thrust out

from a wall of flames)

cranes from another

continent embroidered

on her nightgown,

lips smeared with cherries.

A door not a door

(hope pared, halved)

wavers through mist

and lilies, dark

at the threshold.

Beyond her window

birds float through

tracery drawn by planes

bound for Philadelphia.

She steps forward

into heat (blinds open

to sky, knobbed

fence, curve of shrub

in rising light).


BARBARA DANIELS’ book Rose Fever was published by WordTech Press and her chapbooks Black SailsQuinn & Marie, and Moon Kitchen by Casa de Cinco Hermanas Press. Her poetry has appeared in Prairie SchoonerWomenArtsMid-American ReviewThe Literary Review, and many other journals. She received three Individual Artist Fellowships from the New Jersey State Council on the Arts.


Photo: “Dream” by G.uilina