Award-winning Poems

 

A Winner of the 2017 Sue C. Boynton Poetry Contest
Published in the 2017 Chapbook

Reverie

Poems come to me in the dark
when my eyes are healed
when I do not distinguish
my body from the air.
In a dream the poems come.

When I awake the words fall
from my skin and I forget
the misty-eyed soliloquies
I’d composed like Keats
though I remember him.

I always remember John Keats
who led me through the forest
to the Emerald inside the rock
our true love carved in stone.
Holding his hand I traipsed in the wake
of his tousled amber hair.
He wrote odes among the trees for me.

When you believe in reincarnation
anything is possible.
Love can be written
centuries apart.

A Winner of the 2019 Allen Ginsberg Poetry Contest
Published in the 2020 Paterson Literary Review

Etty

Farmers found her last postcard in a field.
She’d thrown it from the train
on the way to Auschwitz.

“We left the camp singing…”
were among the last words she wrote.

Good God. What do you write when you’re on your way to Auschwitz?

Something
beautiful.

A Winner of the 2020 Eugene V. Shea Contest
Published in Tiny Seed Literary Journal

Breathe

Every Sunday morning
Buddha wakes us up
reposed just as he was
the night before
when sleep delivered our
tense and hurried minds
from the world

Every Sunday morning
he invites us as we stumble
sleepy-eyed, coffee in hand
to the serenity garden—
that leafy place tucked away
in a lush meadow of our minds
beyond a curve, upon a hill
impossible to get to most days
with all the detours and
distractions along the way

Every Sunday morning
we accept Buddha’s invitation
to listen to the stream
and sit upon the supple earth

We straighten our backs
and breathe
waiting for the singing bowl
to transport us
to that place of peace
where our knotted shoulders unfurl
and we release everything
we never needed to carry
in the first place

A Winner of the 2020 WyoPoets Chapbook Contest
Published in Watershed

Letting Go of Grief

speaking out
was the moment
I realized my power;
hiding secrets in a shell
magnified an ominous grief
diminishing my vision and voice;
so I allowed the truth to flow out of me
down the steep hillside I had been climbing
to quench the hot and dusty gulch below me and
make a new river from which thirsty birds now drink

A Winner of the 2020 WyoPoets Chapbook Contest
Published in Watershed

how water flows in love

we became one
when our separate rivers
overflowed and got diverted
in the flood
when gravity brought us
down the watershed
and from the source
we conjoined and emptied
to the sea