Poetry 2 Spring 2016

 

 

 

A Gardener’s Lament: A Modified Sestina

 

    by Bonnie Amesquita

 

A bone cold wind blows today

and I can’t get warm.

Though the days are getting longer

it is still February and relief can’t come soon enough.

Winter blues shade my mind

and leave me oh so tired.

 

Even the weight of my heavy coat makes me tired

I miss the feel of sun today.

And pray for a Spring too soon. I mind

the barren fields that aren’t yet warm

with sun and seed.

 

How much longer

this winter grief? 

Winter prevails, but I will clear dead leaves today

and drag my seed catalogues into my warm

kitchen.  I will start my morning glories and remind

 

myself of those garden dreams plotted in heart and mind.

The days are, after all, getting longer

and soon it will be warm.

I will shed my mood,

and know that the earth, too, has had enough.

 

I’ll try hard not to mind

the chilly breeze

will no longer

let it wear me thin.

the earth will soon warm,

 

and I will too.  These cold hands will find comfort in warm

earth.  Soon enough

the season will change and dissolve my sadness,

ease my weary mind.

As the days grow longer

I will find relief.

 

 

Bio: Bonnie Amesquita grew up in Illinois and Connecticut.  She attended Joliet Junior College and College of St. Francis in Joliet, IL, earning her bachelor’s degree in English in 1983.  She then enrolled in the master’s program in English at Northern Illinois University (NIU), earning her M.A. in 1989.  That same year, she became an English instructor at NIU.  In 2010, the NIU English department awarded her their Excellence in Teaching award.  Upon retirement from NIU in 2010, she entered Chicago Theological Seminary, where she earned a Certificate of Theological Studies in 2011. She and her husband Ric live in DeKalb, IL.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Philharmonic Forest     {reprinted from an earlier issue of Greensilk)

 

  by Kim Hazelwood

 

When you walked in

They whispered.

Resounding

With no reluctance

That you really were their sister.

 

 

They could feel you.

They knew you.

 

Only a few steps in

Already, percussion beneath your feet.

Old, discarded leaves and acorns aplenty.

 

The willows whispered among themselves,

They didn't want to wake the whippoorwills

But connected with you.

Sweet air and life.

They begin with song.

 

The wind picks up a bit

Did you hear the steady harps of vines and violins?

A wave of true contentment,

Waltzes through a sandy path of resonation.

You are familiar with this composer.

 

Look up as the sun dips in,

To greet and hug you.

 

Just over there,

An arousal of wild roses,

So electric their cluster.

 

You want to stay there

And be a part of the great here and now,

Through the long eternity

Of what is,

The Forest

Has always known

The Real You.

 

They are a dramatic bunch,

These leaves of life of trees and breath,

Powered by worldwide love.

It's music,

It's our souls.

 

Love is amplified in the musical forest.

Love is green,

Grander than the tallest tips of the ravishing Redwood,

Carmanah Giant

or Sitka Spruce.

 

When you walked in

They whispered,

And gave you a gift for the day,

The delight of the hover of a hummingbird,

The iridescent tiny aviator.

 

And at sunset,

You wonder where did the hours go?

There is a serious radiance in these new, angled sun-rays beyond words

In precious, dark golds of hope,

We arise, we arrive...

 

The leaves take a bow

And for a moment,

The wind trickles applause.

 

 

 

Bio: Kim Hazelwood is the editor of this litzine and author of CoyoteBat! . She recently placed third  in a local poetry contest and has upcoming publications in various zines in the vast universe of poetry. She is also a member of the Shenandoah Alliance of Poetry. This summer she plans to elope with  the co-editor. Life is good.