Lise Kunkel

Pinned

Credit: 1933 film Little Women (K.Hepburn as Jo March)

Your beauty, thought
and whim, the doom
& awe of a wild rain

Your stinging tongue
nettled flowers,
your imaginings vast
and rocky plains

Loyal as the roots of an oak
to the earth, a pencil,
a paper, a story maker

Of all your exquisite flaws,
Jo March, your pride…

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Jul 8

My fat-throat spits tears
everywhere, tears

I squat to pee, of course, nothing but tears
my hair sweeps the briny puddles
my fingers splay to steady the soak of it

It‘s exhausting to keep outliving
the thought speaks to my limbs
just lie down, it burbles
I think of soap and…

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May 11

Photo credit: author

Traveling down the hill past the big pond
the peepers, wild with spring
sing in my body as memory

in the softening light, two deer run
slowly from the trees knowing
this dirt road is theirs as much as mine

they pause and look back
as if to say, aren’t…

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Anything I can muster as evidence
the smell of your coat still hangs in the closet
from our bed, thick-sleep crusts from my eyes
the insistence of the rising sun
the absence of your throat clearing
the pale blue eggshell shed under the pine
by the cracked driveway weathering

a history, a path forward…

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Mar 21

I wrote a poem years ago
saved to a floppy disc in my early thirties
I was the narrator, the observer
legs over the arm of an old chair
book open across my lap

They brought in firewood
stacked it next to the hearth
soft words, something about the paperboy
a nod between…

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Feb 25

Photo Credit: The Hindu

Our father never taught us
my 3 brothers and me
to punch the bully back
no lessons in the basement
he taught from the woods
from the Friends Meetinghouse

never underestimate
the powerlessness of a tyrant
when 100,000 voices
encircle him chanting

Be the Voices

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