—Poems by Claire J. Baker, Pinole, CA
—Anonymous Photos
OCTOGENARIAN
She writes
on the night sky
one hundred times
WILL LOVE LIFE
AS LONG AS I LIVE
until she believes
in her bones
until chalk-dust from stars
enters her bloodstream
and makes her gleam.
_________________
THE FRENCH HORN ...
sounds like a
bowl of butterscotch
pudding on a table
spread with white linen—
red and yellow roses
vased in table's center.
IN ZERO GRAVITY
When we bounce
on the moon
we might lift
weightless so high
that we land
in a cosmological
archipelago
of angels.
________________
AFTERNOON HEAT
Her small apartment cool
she melds into recliner,
heavy lids yielding to
the ripples of a nap,
light and shade
flickering into REM.
She barely hears
air-conditioner rev
on and click off—
much like her irregu-
lar heartbeat,
thorns in her arteries
alongside the roses.
__________________
GARDEN HAMMOCK
She cradles herself
in a hammock
suspended between two
sturdy maple trees,
tall clover brushing her
dangling hands as she rocks
the canvas womb easily and slow—
nothing to displease
and nowhere lovelier to go.
IN A DREAM OF FALLING
As she falls
through the night's
tumble of stars and planets,
ancient Stonehenge and Avebury
flash across her reverie.
Modern, elderly
she can't lift anything
heavier than a 10-lb. sack
of poems or potatoes.
Still,
she feels charged to keep
carving a unique niche.
___________________
Today’s LittleNip:
POETS,
ideas
to
move us
forward
swim
inside
the
tiny pool
of
a teardrop.
___________________
—Medusa, with thanks to Claire Baker for today’s 10-lb. sack of poems, as we celebrate the night skies of June!
Celebrate poetry!
Photos in this column can be enlarged by clicking on them once,
then click on the X in the top right corner to come back
to Medusa.
