Sorrow-Dog, Blood was Red Missississippi Daybreak:

by Lynn Strongin

noon butter-yellow as Iowa
all the wheat waving, by night inked over.

Chalk storms
blew
obliterating Kansas farms.

Strife
struck the family
misfortune like July lightning after a day made in heaven, blue ingot pouring voltage of cobalt:

            Forked, it struck: Astounding us lulled into illusive calm:
            Angling over Quaker wheat, Shaker barn
            burning the whole design in the brain
                                                            before bringing the loft & news, the mews of wrought iron
all the way down
to Cinder Town.


Born in New York City at the end of the thirties, LYNN STRONGIN grew up as a musical child with a psychologist father and freelance artist mother. Following her parents’ divorce in the mid nineteen-forties when this was still not widespread, the second trauma of her childhood was contracting polio at age twelve. However, this allowed her to develop a gift for introspection. After studying musical composition, she went on to take a graduate degree in American literature and poetry at Stanford University. She is now totally devoting her life to poetry. She has written extensively about polio, the war years, and post-war life in her autobiography; INDIGO: An American Jewish Childhood. Her book SPECTRAL FREEDOM was nominated for the Pulitzer Prize in literature. She has made British Columbia, Canada, her home for the past thirty years, but still considers herself an American voice. Other subjects important to her are the American South, women’s freedom, and the injustices done to girls and women in such institutions as the Magdalene Laundries. She was recently nominated for the George Woodcock Lifetime Achievement Award in British Columbia.

from Epileptic Projections