we are entering time
in-between
after leaves have fallen
like so much
confetti, and trees line
streets, naked;
summer’s debris is cleared
and the sky
reflects the ground – dull and grey –
while we live
in seasonal purgatory
wishing its
end, even as we dread what
will follow.
~ Angela Kublik
Angela Kublik is the editor of Blue Skies Poetry. Her poetry has most recently been published in […]
skinny straight poplars stretch white trunks into azure sky
golden leavesswirl down tear shaped confetti to where I standon the carpet of their common grave
~ Angela Kublik
Angela Kublik is the editor of Blue Skies Poetry. Her poetry has most recently been published in Alberta Encore: People, Places, and Poetry […]
in the wind
there is a whisper
a lament for rain
I hear her in the field
behind my grandparents’ house
where dust swirls
a shroud
I hear her in my mother’s garden
no weeds to pull
no strawberries to eat in secret
dirt wiped away with eager fingers
I hear her in my car
her sorrow a wail
as I sail past cattle grazing
grass that will not […]
I would take:
one last look
across the fields
the touch of wind
on my cheek
a rock from the pile
thrust to the surface
by frost heaves
then picked by hand
the smell of new bales
golden green
in early evening light
the song my grandmother
sang as we walked
along dusty roads
a handful of dirt
from my mother’s garden
to someday
bless my own
a snowflake
pressed between the pages
of a book […]
on special days
I walked
past the yellow buses
waved to friends
in Number Seventeen
that usually took me home
at the end of the lane
I crossed the street
continued
past Mrs. Hertz’s place
with its jungle garden
kittens playing tigers
and down the block
to Grandma’s house
inside her warm kitchen
I sat at the table
drank hot chocolate
ate fresh cinnamon buns
then
our lesson
knitting needles clicked
while she told stories
to the […]
