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So pleased to announce that I was recently interviewed by super talented @gilliancourtneypoetry about my poetry and writing experiences and will be featured this week, along with poetry, at @theporchswingpoetry on Instagram!
Check out the first part of our interview today and return later this week for poems by yours truly. 😊
Read more work at this amazing new poetry venue and return often for inspiring poems, interviews, and posts by many talented poets. 🍁
Trying something new today--a poem I wrote to coordinate with this doodle I made and then colored in this week. 🎉
“Strawberry”
Remember
how Grandma’s lawn
although about an acre
expanded, endless
in bare feet, the orange
tiger lilies that grew almost
as tall as you
wild in a tangle
of July sun
in the far corner
of the garden?
You can return
anytime you like
in your mind’s eye,
even more than
twenty years after
the land, the house
was sold
when you were already
an adult
you keep this
summer, this sweet
strawberry taste on your tongue
as if seven again. Recall
all the days and days
awaiting then
into a new millennium, faraway
feeling as the spangled cosmos.
Photo courtesy of John Wilson at unsplash.com
So pleased to announce that my poem, “Aim,” was published in the current (December 2020) issue of Songs of Eretz. It has a refreshing “Spring” theme— more on that in the editor’s note.
The issue contains the poems of many very talented poets to savor, including meaningful poems by my dear friend, Charles A. Swanson, who is a featured poet in this and many other issues. Check out his poignant elegy to his beautiful granddaughter, Addi. It is an honor to share this issue as “contributor twins” with this steadfast friend from my grad-school days. Here’s to many more of his publications.
Read the complete issue at: Songs of Eretz.
“Aim”
Melanie Faith
That was the night we sped barefoot
down the embankment
across the rolling lawn
past the fountain outside the dining hall, past
Diana the huntress
her bow and arrow pointed perpetually
skyward. Her aim: a silvery spattering of almost-
summer stars. Our aim: celebrating the end
of semester. Our aim: disruption. Each shimmer
of water from rotating sprinklers
a world within a world we had yet
to step into, landed light
and wet on our bare
shoulders. We were a spinning
folly before equilibrium, the best kind.
The brick-tower clock struck two. Someone
squealed from the impact of the cold,
another someone shushed, but it was half-
hearted, against the mirth. Diana
and her bow, at the top of the hill, steady
she kept watch, peering the other way,
head tipped upward to her map of constellations:
ever-aiming into the many night spoils.
Enough stars to gather and gather again
in our open arms.
Photo courtesy of Gaimard on Pixabay
By Ron Smith on Unsplash