Ebbtide

He said one day when we are old, we—
and his saying so was pure joy
for even as we savored last summer’s berries
in our mouths, forced the juice from the pulp
with our tongues, we knew:
one day, he will be bent—perhaps away from me—
or I will ask him to tally the chain of days
we have made and ask him more than once.

Then again, it could be
he said nothing at all.
Perhaps I only saw him him rise to open a window
to listen to twilight’s breeze rustle aspen.
And just this morning,
didn’t he fill a vase of lisianthus with fresh water?

 

 

 

Lynne Thompson is the author of two full-length poetry collections, Beg No Pardon, winner of the Perugia Press Prize and the Great Lakes Colleges Association’s New Writers Award, and Start With A Small Guitar (What Books Press).  Thompson’s poems have appeared in Cultural Weekly, North American Review, Ecotone, and Prairie Schooner, as well as the recent anthology, Coiled Serpent, Poets Arising from the Cultural Quakes & Shifts of Los Angeles.  Reviews and Essays Editor of the literary journal, Spillway, Thompson was awarded an Individual Artist Fellowship from the City of Los Angeles in 2015.

 

 

 

 

Current Issue #69 April 2017
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