Two Poems — Poetry by Rita Rouvalis Chapman

Pull Quote


To wit: We rise like leaves; we fall like leaves

The awful force of spring does not retreat

Despite our best efforts to split the season.


Run, two, three, pity us not.

We only sing in church. We sing our love

In order to make it vanish directly


Red to Red. The ends carry back the green.

Until – until the hardened summer leaves

release themselves to the pleasure of failing.



The Autobiography of a Squid Named William


I have heard

the low sweet lament of the krill

mothers to us all

 I have seen

the men who whispered violets

standing on sea walls

their eyes as they see that final shade of blue

I have delighted

in the perfume of onions

fried on a distant beach promenade

I know that

men are the fighting cocks of God

razors sewn to inadequate legs

I blush

under my burden

(purple, sunburst yellow, ochre)




Rita Rouvalis Chapman teaches high school English in Webster Groves, Missouri.  This year, her poetry has appeared on Lectores Coffee bags and Mojave River Review and the Irish anthology Fathers and what must be said.
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