2005 LOIS CRANSTON MEMORIAL POETRY PRIZE AWARD

Oil on Canvas, circa 1825

Not easy to be unlovely,

to have a nose that meets the world

like a plow blade

sharp enough to cut through soil heavy

with clay, sturdy enough to shove fist-

sized stones from the furrows;

to know the frills of lace

around your face cannot soften the lines

of your majestic prow.

The irony of your blossom-

shaped bonnet is not lost upon you;

you know you are

no rose. There are no rings

on your fingers, no children dressed

like small adults posing

beside you, their hands

obediently laid against your knee.

What happiness?

In your hand, a leather-bound book

with gilded pages; in your pocket,

the key to your front door.

Patricia Hale

Patricia Hale has promoted rabbit raising in the Philippines, performed honeybee disease research in Wyoming, and appeared in two Indian movies. She earned an M.A. in English literature and briefly taught composition to college freshman. She lives with her son in Connecticut where she makes her living as a corporate information technology professional and occasional freelance reference book editor. She is devoted to the craft and practice of poetry and has just recently started sending her work for publication. Her poetry is published in the Owen Wister Review.