Kimberly Vargas Agnese

Tuning fork


She waits for someone to call
but there are no windows 
in the cool,
icicles scrub her hair
and there is no reflection but frost and grass
in the window 
which is not there
even the shadows have lost their flavor
it would be so nice 
to wrap her heart 
around another’s song 
her soul snags
on a bit of branch
twangs like a lone twig
a tuning fork
cries out to heaven 

Published by Kimberly Vargas Agnese

My name is Kimberly Vargas Agnese, though I've previously written as Kae Bucher. I was born in the Florida Keys, but grew up in the Bay Area before migrating south to the San Joaquin Valley. As I ride barefoot around Fresno, I consider the paths I've chosen and the crossroads where our country seems to have perched itself. Thanks to my Romani ancestry, many people groups reside within me and my poetry tends to reflect this. I love welcoming the sunrise with my Native American flute. I've been rumored to juggle while teaching students how to write. And if you can't find me, I'm probably hanging out with Jesus listening to parables.

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