Karen Wolf


fleshes out a leaf and blades
of grass along walk ways peopled

with olive-skinned
tourists, inhaling a copper

green-sheen glazed
skyscraper. It

skitters across a pond on a frog’s
back before turning

brown as an eye-bulging head
dives into mud to escape a blue

heron beak. Light
brown bark calls up cemetery

dirt shoveled on a pine box
three rows from mother’s stone, gold

of gravediggers’ backward
ball cap matching daisy

centers collected in her vase. I
place one on the fresh


Rolling with It

Years pile on slough
away wrinkle
free skin, sag perky
nipples and erase all
fears of superiority that
texturize conversations like
my veganism pitted against
animal cruelty. Attention

to style slips
away as mood and comfort
dictate seducing me into
satisfaction. I

cloak social
interactions in silence,
let the drivel eat
up time better spent learning
the language of
a sage oak or rising
in a hot air balloon above the badlands
of the near disaster of my life.

Easing Passage

Boulders of conviction
the path of our interaction cast
shadows upon our shared
your inner
argument suffocated within a self
made suit
of armor that nothing
my stubborn words penetrate; nothing
you’re brooding
over escapes, or my
insistence chinks—
couldn’t we just go for a walk?


Karen Wolf has been published in Smokey Blue Literary and Art Magazine, The Wagon Magazine, Oasis Journal, Foliate Oak Literary Magazine, The Bookends Review, The Drunken Llama, Blynkt, Raw Dog Press, Street Light Press, Lady Blue Literary Arts Journal, Ripcord Magazine and many others. Her chapbook, THAT’S JUST THE WAY IT IS, was published by Finishing Line Press in 2018.

She says that poetry soothes the savage beast and opens her eyes to the beauty that abounds within the world.

One thought on “Karen Wolf

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *