Morning

Lying here in the 
dark
breathing in 
breathing out.
Morning light seeping in 
around the curtains.
Breath in, hold, 
exhale. Breath, hold, 
exhale.

Shadow Gray

shadow gray like grains
of shells worn
down by 
ocean waves.

shadow gray like
scum on 
top of brown
rice.

shadow gray
like your
eyes.

shadow
gray.

Morning

One by one, I
raise the paper
shades and let
the morning in.

Blue Sky, Gold Leaf

One golden leaf against
the blue sky.
Then it’s
gone.

Goats

“Mississippi farm yard” Kristin Cleage

“A few pigmy goats would clean

this yard right up.”

He said, looking at the

overgrown green

through the window.

Forty years ago he suggested

six milk goats, and

left town. Buckets

of milk overflowed

my kitchen table.

Next Time

“Face” Kristin Cleage

In my next life

I’ll dance like

Antonia La Singla.

My hands like

birds, my heavy

hair swinging.

 

The Sky

“Idlewild Lake House” Kristin Cleage 1990s

Floating in the lake, the

water dulling the sound

of the children,

I look at the sky,

disappearing into the

clouds. Nights in

winter, wrapped in blankets, I

sat on the deck and

watched the stars,

planes following their

paths through the sky.

I thought of dying there when the

time came, disappearing into

that wide sky.

 

 

Waves

I see something in

the breaking waves,

a dog, a bird, a swimmer.

The waves curling,

crashing,

spreading over

each other. Rolling,

joining.

Waves and spray.

Blue sky.

 

Sunrise

Poem and photograph © Kristin Cleage

Rising from the

ocean, the sun

made a path

of light.

Summer Nights

Those summer nights I

sat nursing the baby,

looking down on the

street light shining green

through the leaves.