Journal

In View of the Fact That; Considering; Inasmuch As

perhaps she should have known
perhaps she did know
did not know precisely

perhaps she could have pieced
the clues, his constant tread-milling
cleaning up the house

putting his life in order
she would have guessed
did think it from his probable

cancer the tumors &
she was glad they were benign though
nightly she dreamt he died

did not tell him
not wanting to give voice
to Death

leaving her
the Steller’s Jay the cat brought in almost
but not quite alive

After the Eulogy

When all has been said, when we blow our noses, retire to the kitchen, remove plastic wrap, shove the proper serving utensils into steaming pans of mostaccioli and lasagna, cold cuts, cheese slices, potato salad, salad-salad, baked beans, fruit and veggie trays, ranch dressing, Rice Krispy treats, chocolate scotcheroos, cheese cakes, homemade cookies, when we’ve had our fill and are milling about or sitting down. Before we leave the church. When we are breathing again and functional. When a random guy in a black leather jacket puts his arm around me, tells me I am still hot, recalls my burnt orange Tornado, tells me the years have been kind, when he asks me if I’m happy. When I say yes. When he asks isn’t that your sister. When I say yes and she’s married. When he thinks about it and says …well don’t you have another. When I say yes and she is single … and she would surely love some company—though she does have dementia but she does recall the past vividly. When I still can’t conjure him / our past. A week later when I feel bad that perhaps I should have heard his story, when I contact a friend, she tells me how he shot his father a couple of years ago (non-fatal injuries) and he’s just hangin’ around but when pressed she recollects that at least he didn’t go to jail.

Widely published, Laura LeHew’s latest collections include: Buyer’s Remorse, Becoming, and Willingly Would I Burn. By day, LeHew owns a computer forensics consulting company. She co-hosts the reading series, Poetry for the People, in Eugene, Oregon, and edits/owns the small press, Uttered Chaos. (lauralehew.com). 

The North Sea

Response

“Perhaps these thoughts of ours will never find an audience… Perhaps when all the tears have been shed, the earth will be more fertile.” Perhaps–Shu Ting, translated by Carolyn Kizer

Now that cold has returned, the earth remembers
how to freeze, the flock needs more corn,
the wood stove gobbles the sacrificed trees.

Now that joints are seized with throbbing pain
and stiffness makes me wooden, even writing
requires an inner fire not needed
on soft summer days.

Ignore the warm bed,
put down the coffee, take up the pen–
perhaps these words will go nowhere
but Shu knew we have no choice.

Grief is in the ink, the paper blanches
at today’s atrocities, the modem chokes
and won’t deliver news. Too much!

And what can a poem do?

But these cold, wrinkled hands,
too far from the woodstove, crabbing the letters
into cryptic lines – these hands refuse to stop,
to give up the pen, to curl up. Let others hibernate!

Perhaps this draft hastens the paper’s compost,
but I glow inside from Elliott, Rich, Kizer–those
who kept writing amid the turmoil and sorrow.
I can do no less.

Catherine McGuire is a writer and artist with a deep concern for our planet’s future. She has four decades of published poetry, four poetry chapbooks, a full-length poetry book, Elegy for the 21^st Century (FutureCycle Press) and a de-industrial science fiction novel, Lifeline (Founders House Publishing). Find her at cathymcguire.com

Old Gus Remembers

Yeva Chisholm is a collage artist and poet from the Willamette Valley, recently relocated to Santa Fe, New Mexico, where she is devoting her time to learning the art of belly dance, expressing herself on a visceral, body level. In her collage and poetry, she is constantly inspired by nature and human interaction. Collage, in particular, leads her to an expression of passion and to the exploration of the interconnectedness in all things. In her collages, she uses recycled magazines, tissue paper, cardboard, canvas, and Mod Podge. See more at her Etsy shop, Fierce Rising. 

To Larry

we two
wander, white-haired,
a heartbeat between us,
its pulsing silence our teenaged
brother

Marjorie Power‘s newest collection is ONCOMING HALOS, published by Kelsay Books. Other recent poems will soon appear in MUDFISH, TRAJECTORY, and THE NORTH DAKOTA QUARTERLY. Power lives in Denver, Colorado after residing many years in the Northwest. Find more information at MarjoriePowerPoet.com.