A Poem by Michael H. Brownstein

Strength and Growth Rings

She called herself nice nasty
Dion of Hendrix's "Purple Haze."
She told of the growth rings of trees
And how they grow within our bones
Changing our network of outer appearance
Decade on the decade, nuances
Lean or thick, threadlike or rope.

Some days she would rise to the wind,
Let Janis know her overdose was recognized,
And other days she hopped beyond clouds
Into the throat of a melody loud and abrasive.
She told how the rings in our bones
Wrapped themselves around the marrow
Decade after decade--years of stress and change



Michael H. Brownstein has been widely published.  His latest works, Firestorm:  A Rendering of Torah (Camel Saloon Books on Blogs) and The Katy Trail, Mid-Missouri, 100F Outside and other poems (Barometric Pressures -- A Kind of a Hurricane Press).  His work has appeared in The Cafe Review, American Letters and Commentary, Xavier Review, Hotel Amerika, Meridian Anthology of Contemporary Poetry, The Pacific Review, and others.  In addition, he has nine poetry chapbooks including The Shooting Gallery (Samidat Press, 1987), Poems from the Body Bag (Ommation Press, 1988), A Period of Trees (Snark Press, 2004), What Stone Is (Fractal Edge Press, 2005) and I Was a Teacher Once (Ten Page Press, 2011).  He is the editor of First Poems from Viet Nam (2011).