"Which Way?" by Elisabeth Frischauf

Which Way?

Air, I offer sweet grapes with a rest on the bench — good witch.
Zig-way zag-way whirl round the playground
a pack of children.
Shrieks, crazy-laughs — fire on my heels.
You are good, you are good! (in case I forget)

Then, I become dark,
dirt under swings and jungle gyms.
My index finger a stabby wand
points, shoots, boomerangs, Scritch,
scratch, I’m going to eat you up, my fine fat little ones.

Their short balloon calves race in five directions
You are bad, bad, bad!
Wild gets the shrieking.
Wilder.

I become wind as fear stabs the chase.
Roosh, whoosh — a scramble of legs,
disappearing heads under benches
up and over railings that guard the hedge forest
where wind
has trouble reaching between the tight-knit branches,
where damp sings with mosquitoes.

Perched on the cement ledge,
the oldest announces,
We push you in the oven.
I become ball,
folded small,
as much as old bones will manage.

When sun
spreads pink-gold over gap tooth smiles,
I am clock —
Who tones,
Time
time to go
home

Elisabeth

Frischauf

Traditional and contemporary forms bring Frischauf’s voice to life in today’s world of technology, environmental concerns, and interpersonal relationships. Credits include the rhymed narration text, “Let’s Talk about AIDS” (Sister Films); poems in Transformation of Memory, Czernin Verlag, Big City Lit, Literary Nest, Mer Vox Quarterly; a reading of my work at the Popular Culture Association, 2021; and a mention by Alec Hamilton of NPR, April 2021, for National Poetry Month. A narrative memoir poem, “They Clasp My Hand,” will appear October 2021 as a bilingual, English / German book (Theodor Kramer Verlag, Vienna, Austria). She lives on a small plot of land in Putnam County, Vermont, where she also has her art studio.

Headshot: Richard Landy

Photo Credit: Staff