A Sorrow

You’ll never hear my grandmother say Yarrow—
not the warble of émigré ecstasy escaping into a field of yellow
eggs-and-butter in her Yare;

nor the gruff kapow, like the hoof of a calf, of row—
the velvet toe of her top lip putting its foot down
on her bottom one, ending all discussion.

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Danielle Chapman

Danielle Chapman is the author of Delinquent Palaces (Northwestern University Press, 2015). Her essays and criticism can be found in The Oxford American, Commonweal, and Poetry. She teaches Shakespeare and creative writing at Yale.

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Author: Danielle Chapman

Danielle Chapman is the author of Delinquent Palaces (Northwestern University Press, 2015). Her essays and criticism can be found in The Oxford American, Commonweal, and Poetry. She teaches Shakespeare and creative writing at Yale. View all posts by Danielle Chapman