There are whys of logic children ask for whys of being philosophers ponder and the whys I grew out of when futility took over. I wore black dresses taste become willful tulips, not primrose black-and-white movies the questions their own answers. Today an undulant sea is a shifting architecture of desert. No one really knows why sweet over salt except love is a gift of choices. Though I like both the desert’s turbulence and the sinew of ocean I live near the ocean and once I chose you.
Florence Weinberger has published 4 books of poetry, The Invisible Telling Its Shape, Breathing Like a Jew, Carnal Fragrance and Sacred Graffiti. Twice nominated for a Pushcart Prize, her poetry has appeared in numerous literary magazines, including Another Chicago Magazine, Chaparral, The Comstock Review, The Pedestal, Poetry East, Rattle and Spillway, and many anthologies, including, most recently, The Widows’ Handbook.
