Siberia

American Poetry Review, The, Nov/Dec 2006 by Cruz, Cynthia

Already, the dream tigers have arrived.

Striped and enormous, as always.

When you vanish into the maze of silver cypress,

Let the mallow-white

Ink take the quiet

Of your mind.

Let the river

Kill the blossom.

He who hurt you once,

Shall now be put to rest.

I will find him, I will

Waste him in my own sweet way.

If I can, I will

Become you.