Poetry by Kristine Ong Muslim
This cold has taught me
about the nature of souls.
Although I have known
a long time ago that the body
is meant to be a sieve for
the soul fermenting inside,
I am still surprised by the fog
of breath coming out of my mouth.
So dense. It seems that I am not the only one
who is exhaling in this frozen yard.
*This poem first appeared in Fine Lines, Jan 2008
Kristine Ong Muslim has been published in numerous publications worldwide, including A cappella Zoo, Beeswax Magazine, GlassFire Magazine, Grasslimb, Narrative Magazine, Pank, The Pedestal Magazine, and Southword. She has been nominated five times for the Pushcart Prize and twice for the Science Fiction Poetry Association’s Rhysling Award.