Early Elegy: Smallpox

By Claudia Emerson

The world has certified itself rid of
all but the argument: to eradicate or not
the small stock of variola frozen,
quarantined—a dormancy it has
refused, just once, for a woman behind a sterile
lens, her glass slide a clearest, most
becoming pane. How could it resist slipping
away with her, that discrete first pock? 

This Poem Features In:

Browse Collections By Category

Select from our entire catalogue of poetry collections: