Light / shadow. Light / shadow.
Live oaks. Mozart’s Adagio,
the twenty third in A Major.
My turn signal blinks on the dashboard
only to hasten the Dodge in front
(swim, Ichthus, support the troops).
To the right, in the mirror, a focused eye
squints / goggles — swings of mascara.
A battered Camry cleaves across:
a pressure wave from loud bass,
the chrome sun-mill in spiked wheel rims.
The starched shirts. The Starbucks’s cups.
The same old tramp who blesses for a buck.
We are moving. Where am I moving?
Light / shadow. Mozart’s Adagio,
the twenty-third in A Major.
I am a stranger in my own family.
I am a sister to any stranger
when I’m needed. Am I needed?
Until 2007, Elina Petrova worked as an engineer in Ukraine. She has many Ukrainian and Russian publications, and a book of Russian-language poems. Elina works in a Houston law firm. Her poetry has been published in Illya’s Honey, FreeFall, Texas Poetry Calendar and various anthologies. Harbinger Asylum recently nominated her for the Pushcart Prize. Publication of Elina’s first book of poetry in English is pending.