Category: A Poem

October

1)
I look at the month
of forgiveness—when rains
come down, when the land expands
with relief, and I forgive myself
for every complaint against heat,

though I still save dish water
for the courtyard
as a hot, dry climate
and fading sun
slowly relent.

2)
I do not forget:
The Drought Years
That Year of Fighting Bucks
Coyote Years
The Year of Fawns

That Skunk Family Year
Mountain Lion Years
Bobcat Years

and Years When I Don’t Know
What to Expect.

October 6, 2019
Gudrun Mouw (c)

IF ONLY…

If only wind would
diminish; if only May would not
feel like winter.

If only humanity were
more humane. If only love
spread wings everywhere,
and rest would stay sweet.

She would be all
that she could, if only
it were June.

Gudrun Mouw (c)
May 23, 2019

Not Yet The Ides of March

After a cold, dry night,
after destructive rains,
after frozen morning fields,

we drive towards sun
over foothills of discontent.
Earth lifts billowing Tuli clouds
from dark valleys
into a sunlit green.

Will beauty save us
from contracting
with sorrow?

Gudrun Mouw (c)
March 10, 2019

A Poem Can Haunt

I resist this poem so it won’t haunt,
but there is no stopping the taste of water.

How many stupidities act
as if a thought doesn’t fly through the universe,
since secret greed is not secret.

I resist this poem so it won’t hurt,
but there is no stopping that song of the unsung.

Gudrun Mouw (c)
January 13, 2019