Frannie Lindsay

TENEBRAE
July 8, 2015 Lindsay Frannie

Tenebrae

 

As grief begins taking up residence
I look to my greyhound’s whitened face;

to her deft, anatomical tongue
swooping my cheek as if nothing
has changed;

to her headlong
patience; her flanks no longer
huntress-muscled;

nails like the chipped keys
of a saloon piano;

and to the old, old
sun preparing the hallowed square
of her winter-day sleep.

Frannie Lindsay’s sixth volume of poetry, The Snow’s Wife, was released in 2020 from Cavankerry Press. Her awards include the May Swenson Award, the Perugia Prize, the Benjamin Saltman Award, the Washington Prize, The Missouri Review Prize, as well as fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts and the Massachusetts Cultural Council. Her work has appeared in Best American Poetry, and numerous periodicals such as The Yale Review, The Atlantic Monthly, Plume, Under a Warm Green Linden, and Field. She teaches workshops on the poetry of grief. She is also a classical pianist.