I envied you your furnace, and the rich
Opulence of your accouterments;
Those patterned ruby Orientals which
You felt beneath your feet, though there were rents
That even then had strained, begun to fray.
We knew your mother ruled the ship, so when
Your sister grew reclusive, somewhat fey,
Escaping, you played games or read. The den
Deep in your basement was, for you, a place
Where you might hide from all you didn’t know,
But sensed. And as for me, I learned to face
The icy rutted way that I must go.
A certain unrelenting cold disdain
I didn’t understand, my father gave
To me in lieu of love, a cold refrain,
Repetitive, taught me to search out, save
The slightest trace of warmth. I treasured you,
My friend within a frozen landscape where
Affection had been meted to the few
Who’d learned to wear the mask, the hardened stare.
- A former Wilbur Fellow and six-time nominee for a Pushcart award, in 2007, she has published three books, Measured By Song, Making Music.
As one of two finalists in the 2013 Aldrich Press Poetry Book Award, Cook was awarded publication of the manuscript for The View From Here, her third book
I During Poetry Week 2014, The Poetry Collecftion at SUNYAB, Buffalo, published Cook’s chapbook of her work.
Poems and essays by Sally Cook have appeared in numerous magazines and journals such as Blue Unicorn, Chronicles, First Things, The Formalist Portal, Light Quarterly, Lighten Up Online, National Review, Pennsylvania Review, Trinacria and other venues, both print and electronic.
The poet is also a painter of Magic Realist paintings. She began as an exhibitor in Manhattan’s Tenth Street Co-operative Galleries, moved into geometrics and went on from there. Her work has been exhibited at many leading galleries and museums and represented in national collections.