Altars and Flags

By KAREN CHASE

My windowsill, that skinny altar
above the kitchen sink, helps me
combine death with wind,
and air with birth—
fire, water, time, dirt.


Holy marble tag sale mule that looks Greek,
Holy fishing lure from Race Point,
Holy viburnum leaf.
3 holy photos of my father and me,
Holy wishbone,
Masada rock, Menemsha stone,
Holy tin of pimenton,
Ganesh festooned by holy Solomon.

Then, through the pane of glass,
I look out past the garden remains
to raggedy prayer flags blowing
and blown, another season gone.

 

 

Karen Chase is the author of two collections of poetry, Kazimierz Square and Bear, and the award-winning non-fiction book Land of Stone.

Click here to purchase Issue 03

From the beginning, The Common has brought you transportive writing and exciting new voices. We are committed to supporting writers and maintaining free, unrestricted access to our website, but we can’t do it without you. Become an integral part of our global community of readers and writers by donating today. No amount is too small. Thank you!

Altars and Flags

Related Posts

July 2026 Poetry Feature

AMIYA MORETTA
Magnolia tree in the window, hammock, / a loop in hours, a cradle of light we swing inside, / naming what we’re afraid of. / In this version, he is from halfway around the world. / Some net caught the curve of us in the dark, / gathered what it could, his hand, my pulse.

Caribbean picture

Self-Portrait in The Caribbean

PAOLA ASSAD BARBARINO
Sometimes I am emboldened, / I decide to stand in the people’s balcony / I decide it is Maundy Thursday I decide to place a priest behind me that can speak to the people behind / my back / I decide to put out the fire and light my throat / scream

Feltspade

ELIAS SADAQ
I serve out my conscription / sleep in a bunk bed / for four cold months / in the engineer regiment at Skive Garrison / in a room with three other men / I fuck the colonel / the only sign that time is passing / is a pile of snow outside the window / that grows smaller