Karen Corinne Herceg

Karen Corinne Herceg Poems

Karen Corinne Herceg Biography

Karen Corinne Herceg graduated magna cum laude from Columbia University with a B.A. in Literature & Writing and has graduate credits in editing, revision and psychology. A recipient of N.Y. State grants, she has co-featured at major venues such as The N.Y. Public Library, The Queens Museum, The Provincetown Playhouse, St. John’s University, Binghamton University and many others on programs with such renowned poets as Pulitzer Prize winners John Ashbery and Philip Schultz and poet William Packard, founder of The New York Quarterly. She has studied with David Ignatow, Philip Schultz and writer/novelist Glenda Adams. Karen was co-founder and editor of The First East Coast Theatre & Publishing Co. that published poetry by Anna Adams, Stuart Kaufman, Roger Steigmeier and a novel by Charles Powers. Her first volume of poems is Inner Sanctions, and she has just completed a second volume to be published by Nirala Publications. She is also working on a memoir and publishes poetry, prose and essays in a variety of magazines and literary journals. Her work has been read by Marina Mati on “Hudson Valley Howl” and is read frequently by Jonathan Wolfman on his broadcasts Passionate Justice and Lit Snits at “oursalon.ning.com.” Read an interview with Karen in the Epoch Times publishing shortly. Karen is a member of Poets & Writers, Writers Digest, the Academy of American Poets, PEN America and C.A.P.S. and is a featured poet on the New York poetry scene. Her website is: www.karencorinneherceg.com and you can also follow her on Facebook and Twitter @karen_herceg.)

The Best Poem Of Karen Corinne Herceg

A Wake Of Frogs

An early April day, arms full of grocery bags,
frost in the air not yet done,
I walked toward the house, stopped,
stunned by the sudden sight,
their gleaming bodies
laid out across rocks rimming the fountain
like civil war soldiers
waiting to be recognized and buried.
The porch where I sat evenings
watching the small waterfall
leech through rocks
frothing into a pool rimmed with tiger lilies
was far from soothing now.
How to know the autumn before
ice would seal a wet tomb
before those innocents could escape?
A city girl, I couldn't warn them
or know of nature's ways.

Bags fallen at my feet, I spotted him
through our picture window
sitting casually New York Times in hand.
How he loved the crossword puzzle,
its setup of boxes, the clean neat lines,
the completion of tiny words,
the supposition of victory.
This was complete, too:
death at the end of long years,
memories frozen over with no future
laid out to view.
He thought those frogs were a warning
but they were only seeking a proper burial,
an affirmation
of what was long deceased.

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