by Blanche Case

Ache, hands, with cold
glory. Feel the dry ice
course through your veins.
Trace numb fingerprints
one on one
and watch them redden.

Wish for ears
to snatch the crashing wind.
Wish for eyes
to water at the dawn.
Wish for thoughts
to know your frozen worth.

Ache, hands, with cold
glory.
Turn your tips to the sun
and feel it spread
over your valleys.

BLANCHE CASE is an artist masquerading as a respectable Providence citizen. Trying to decide whether to act, sing, dance, or write was too difficult, so she decided to do everything. She is delighted to be published for the first time in the continental U.S.