Novelist Bill Pieper reads at SPC's
Fiction Night Monday, April 16
—Photo by Michelle Kunert, Sacramento
HEARTBREAK
SPRING
—Patricia Hickerson, Davis
the
child lies in bed
hearing
songs from the birches and maples
birdwing
flutters against the leaves
the
smells of eastern Spring
Grandma’s
garden comes alive in the backyard
moon
vines climb the playhouse lattice
and
wait for warm night to blossom wide
forsythia
petals clump the yellow corners
cherry
trees at budburst
mother
bird hides in the fat bush by the porch
yesterday
the child peeked in, parted the thickness
it
shook, a baby fell from the nest
the
child cringes in memory
hides
under the covers
may
the barberry hedge prick her knees
may
the sun burn her cheek
may
the wind scramble her hair
she
has killed a creature from another species
a
little bird like herself
at the mercy of Spring
_______________________
FORECLOSED
12 January
2012
—Kim Clyde, Sacramento
The lot
Takes up
nearly half the semicircle
Where I live.
The crotch of
the dog leg
If you will.
The owners
Foreclosed
upon early last summer
Don’t visit to
check the mail anymore.
Nor do the
dogs escape
To visit me
Late in the
night.
The north end
fence
Spans the walk
way
Down the side
of the garage
And is guarded
by a
Stone raccoon
Its boards
perforated
Like tear-out
paper
In a student
notebook.
The squatters
So diligent
Have not given
up
This shelter
But have
instead taken down
The south end
fence.
It is better
hidden
In the overgrown
Landscape.
I have not
seen them
The only
tenants
I can remark
upon
Are the rats
Living in the
crawlspace
Under the
add-on
Where the home
gym lived.
Overlooking
The Koi pond
And waterfall.
The pond,
Empty now
Held the
fascination,
Of humans
And quadrupeds
Alike.
I recall a
gunshot
Ringing out
In the wee
hours
Once.
The owner
Shot a raccoon
Who came to
fish.
His dogs
fought it off.
Must have been
a pretty good shot.
None of the
dogs got hit
With the
bullet
That killed
the ‘coon.
Its remains
Are still
there
In the grass
By the fence
Where the
squatters
Gain access.
The Koi are
gone now.
The pond is
dry.
They were left
behind
But somebody
finally got ‘em.
Big feast.
The squatters
are quiet.
I guess I
don’t mind them
Invisible as
they are.
But being
humans
I know the
potential
Of their
habits
And find
I prefer the
prospect
Of the
Four-legged
critters.
________________________
Loki
—Photo by Taylor Graham
ZEN GARDEN
—Taylor Graham, Placerville
We settle into warm, fragrant-
itchy grass, my puppy and I. A breeze
stirs air heavy with April
pollen, hum of bees and promises
of nectar; stirs
green seed-heads and the soft
sable guard-hairs over puppy-ribs.
No undercoat at all, yet.
Hardly any flesh. So thin—
bowlfuls of puppy-kibble disappear,
transform to energy, un-
sprung spring synapses of sheer
mischief. She'll never
grow into her choke-
collar, her ears, her whimsy, while
this morning I'm heavy
as clay under heat of a sudden full-
spring Tuesday. But that's OK.
My puppy lolls, tongue lazy
among grasses, for-just-a-briefest
moment, this Zen garden.
________________________
DANDELIONS, DAISIES
—Taylor Graham
I
love her—I
love her not. Each weed
I pull, she grabs and dashes
off,
pure
puppy. How
shall I ever get
things in order, for instance
my
mind
this April
day, so warm and drow-
sy, thoughts, weeds, and puppy at
play?
_______________________
FROM HARMONY TO HARMONY
—Michael Cluff, Corona
Ivan has enjoyed
spring fever since 1973
always wears surfer shorts
and tongs to work
when neutral dress shirts
heavy drab oxford leather shoes
and subtle ties were preferred
by the power-
ful-of-it people.
Today he is as happy
as ever he can be
even though he is
three-piece-suited
tight brown belted
and neck-choked by
perfect dimpled paisley cloth
that joins collar to waist
in a Freudian blatant way.
He is interviewing
for a new position
somewhere overlooking
the shifting blue to green
to brown sea
far from the pollen that does pollute
his internal system but comes from plants
and flowers that pepper and delight his soul.
_______________________
Today's LittleNip:
—Wallace Stevens
_______________________
—Medusa, with thanks to today's contributors! And be sure to check out the new Poetry Now at sacpoetrynow.com—new format, new editors, and very accessible.
Scott Evans with the latest issue of Blue Moon Review
at SPC's Fiction Night Monday, April 16
—Photo by Michelle Kunert, Sacramento