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Wanda Schubmehl 
Wanda Schubmehl 
Schroedinger's 
Cat 
 
 
From the book: 
 
Kokopelli In Winter, Rochester, NY 
 
Listening to R. Carlos Nakai on my ipod, 
I shuffle my insulated boots down East Avenue, 
dreaming of petroglyphs on red desert rock. 
 
Icicles hang from the coffee-shop canopy, 
accretions of falling water-drops paused 
by the overnight freeze. 
 
My feet want to step to a corn-dance beat, 
but there's tricky ice under two inches of new snow. 
Some mouse has scurried down this same sidewalk 
 
leaving little pawprints like a pictograph trail 
which I follow, no predator forcing my pace, 
just cold wind spitting ice down the back of my coat. 
 
Hunched over, tassles on my knitted hat flying, 
I wonder if the mouse survived, and lies holed-up 
in a grass-lined nest.  Maybe an owl hunted in the dark, 
 
and is sleeping now with a mouse-full belly.  I figure the odds 
are fifty-fifty.  The ancient petroglyph artists are dead, 
but even half-frozen, I can hear the music, 
 
so I give in to the flute, and, ice or no ice, 
my feet draw old patterns on the cold concrete. 
 
 
 
Wanda Schubmehl began a serious study of poetry around the time she turned 40, and the current collection contains poems written over the next 20 years.  She has worked as a secretary in a country music booking agency, a children's librarian, and a clinical social worker.  She and her husband have two daughters, and currently live in upstate New York. 
 
Schroedinger's Cat  
is a 40 page hand-stitched chapbook - $10.00.  
 
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