Having skittered clear across the wet intersection, one regretful person (clutched in terror) was the reason for standstill traffic tonight Finally, it was my turn to rubberneck, when this ominous, arresting image caught me instead: a procession of autos, snaked miles into the distance– a thousand p u f f s s of exhaust breath hangingContinue reading “AUTOS IN THE NIGHT”
Author Archives: Jaclyn
POULSBO
Come morning, we slid tippy kayaks into the Sound, Poulsbo-bound for breakfast Fearless oars separated families of jellyfish, we mean no harm, just passing through And geoducks – what strange creations, sand-fountains that could dance to Mozart Comfort of land, sun-drenched streets of shops, families, Norwegian oddities, pastries the size of frisbees.
Swimming Wishes
On mornings crisp with new Grass glazed with frozen dew Atop the concrete hill, Buildings bricked and still Warm chlorine trips my thoughts Stopping with sharp recognition I daydream of white swim caps, Slow diving with dolphin-precision
EGG-SHAPED SQUASH
Together, we forgive the rind with a sharpened knife You split with force the egg-shaped squash Whose entrails I spoon onto the butcher’s block Spreading like an orange net, loaded with teardrop seeds The belly of our oven is amber-glowing, ready
First summer in a seaport city
Posing as a coastal surprise Blooms in abundance in summertime Sweet pink roses climb on green branches Tender pale buds that yearn for vases And the unsuspecting other-surprise Left by a canine, who just had to go Where I would plant my sandal When reaching for a few blooms of my own
fog up the windows 