Sue Rose
א (ah-lef)
King over breath, mark
of silence in the line,
aleph is mighty, mute,
giving nothing away.
Shaped from the ox
in the fields, boxy
head, taciturn stare,
it wears its crown
of horns lightly, seals air
in the universe, heat
in the year, lungs
in the body. It’s soft,
this god letter, a breeze
kissing the script
it precedes with life.
It splays like the X
marking the spot
where my lips gape
and my tongue cleaves
to the floor of my mouth
as I impart the ah
of the vowel, turning
a crooked figure
into the birth of a word.
Sue Rose has published three collections with Cinnamon Press: From the Dark Room (2011), The Cost of Keys (2014) and Scion (2020), a chapbook of sonnets paired with her own photos, Heart Archives (Hercules Editions) and a book of photos and poems with photographer Lawrence Impey, Tonewood (Eaglesfield Editions).
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