Tag: Nature

Butterfly

Sarah Russell11 Comments

My poem “Butterfly” was posted today by Silver Birch Press in their “Bugs and Insects” series. My thanks to Melanie, the editor of Silver Birch. The poem was first published in the anthology Is It Hot in Here or Is It Just Me.

Butterfly

A yellow butterfly floats above the dandelions
and bindweed.

I bought this rundown place unseen—
transplanted my roots to unfamiliar soil
closer to children and grandchildren.

I breakfast on the derelict patio before the sun
rises through the trees to scald the day.
The yard needs a gardener’s hand. “Next summer
after I get settled,” I promise, aware I am speaking
aloud to the butterfly, my visitor most mornings.

She must be female, I think, with the care she takes
of her lovely black accessories against the yellow
of her wings, the jaunty matching spots of makeup
above her eyes, the tilt of her feathery antennae.

I’ve never seen her land, always moving as I do
from painting rooms and finding flooring
to battling sugar ants who found the kitchen
years ago and like it there. She is a friend in this city
where my children move at a tempo not my own.

The butterfly’s time is short, as mine will be—
just enough to make this last place home
until the day when decisions are made for me.
I’ve promised not to fuss when that day comes.
For now, with the butterfly, I’ll follow the breeze,
feel sunlight and dew, live free.

My thanks to Rose Mary Boehm

Sarah Russell11 Comments

Way back in 2014, when I was just starting to write poetry again and had never been published, Rose Mary Boehm approached me and said she would like ten (10!) of my poems to publish on her blog. I didn’t know what poems of mine were good or bad, so I sent her 20 and told her to pick. She gave me confidence and my start, and I’ve never looked back. I hope other poets out there will find an angel to guide their first efforts.

Recently, she republished my poems, so here’s the link. Thanks, Rose, for believing in me.

https://houseboathouse.blogspot.com/2014/01/featured-poet-no-22-sarah-russell.html?q=sarah+russell

This August morning

Sarah Russell2 Comments

A third poem published today by Red Eft Review. My thanks to Corey Cook for accepting all 3 recent poems that I submitted. I love this poem coming out now in late April, since I just hung out our hummingbird feeders for the summer.

This August morning
hummingbirds are at the feeder—
impossible creations dipping
into the nectar.
I wonder at their flair for flying
backwards, their nests no bigger 
than a walnut shell, their weeklong 
journeys on whirligig wings following 
the flowers. It gives me peace, 
thinking of small, irridescent lives,
momentary and breathtaking.

New England Spring

Sarah Russell7 Comments

I love the rainy, fecund springs we had when we lived in New England. Tried to capture it in this poem published today by Red Eft Review.

It has rained for days—sometimes early fog 
and a gentle mist that reminds me of the moors; 
sometimes the wind and drench of squalls 
from the Atlantic. Flowers love this spring, 
but worms sprawl helpless on sidewalks 
and die in the first patch of sun. The dog 
comes home bedraggled from his walks, 
happy and shaking on the stoop. I drape 
my slicker over a chair with a towel beneath 
to catch the drops, brew some tea, open 
my journal. A perfect morning.

Great Horned Owls, Mid-Winter

Sarah Russell1 Comment

My thanks to Red Eft Review and editor Corey Cook for publishing my poem today.

On our evening walk we hear them
in a stand of oak and pine—the female’s
breathy notes; the male’s answer, deeper,
like tones blown across a stoneware jug.
Before their sortie over snowy fields
they whisper greetings to their mates—
an alliance voiced in shadow. Our breath
clouds in the twilight.

Bird Woman

Sarah Russell3 Comments

A second poem published in Red Eft Review.

Bird Woman

Nearing the shore at twilight,
she drifts in the wind’s current.
The lagoon below is still
as held breath.
Her eyes skirt the trees,
the marshy undergrowth
for a safe settling.
She tires easily now,
seeks sheltered landings
on timeworn wings,
her flight nearing
an unfamiliar shore
that beckons
with no promises.

Cherokee Purples

Sarah Russell4 Comments

My poem “Cherokee Purples” was just published by Red Eft Review. My thanks to editor Corey Cook.

…

Cherokee Purples

There’s melancholy in picking 
the last of these heirlooms 
before first frost. The May potential 

of seedlings. Yellow blossoms,
then tiny green fruits, hard as marbles,
in July. Deep red beauties, bending stalks 

under their weight, radiant and tender 
to the touch in August and September,
harvested in threes and fours, starring 

in salads, roasted with garlic, eaten 
like apples. This small bounty—triumph 
of urban farmers who nurture, stake, 

feed, and brag about their crop 
outgrowing cages to sprawl 
across the neighbor’s fence. Oh, the pride 

in sharing one or two with friends 
who didn’t grow their own this year. 
And finally in October, the wistful goodbye 

to a generous friend whose final gifts 
grace a windowsill to ripen, seeds salvaged 
for spring planting.

End of Autumn

Sarah Russell1 Comment

The third poem published this week by Lothlorien Poetry Journal.

End of Autumn 
 
The small purple asters,  
still blooming,  
bow their heads to late October winds. 
I sit against the old oak. Its leather leaves  
crackle, gossiping about the coming snow.  
Passersby are zipping jackets, pulling hoodies  
tight to cover ears. Though robins have headed  
south, nuthatches and chickadees linger at the feeder,  
even when yearling squirrels shimmy up to fill  
their cheeks and race off toward the pine. Shadows  
are long by four. I’m glad for stew simmering 
in the crockpot and logs stacked for a fire this evening.  
I rise and find a new ache in my bones. The walk home  
feels lonely. My younger days have faded like summer  
warmth, and the ancient north wind beckons.

Change of Seasons

Sarah Russell5 Comments

The second of my poems published by Lothlorien Poetry Journal.

Change of Seasons

Summer turns sullen in August,  
stubborn with laggard heat,  

even as the maples start to blush 
and geese grow restless, taking great,  

noisy practice turns from pond to field.  
Castanets of crickets fill the night,  

and fireflies blink farewell. I gather  
the zealous bounty of zucchini  

and tomatoes, find caterpillars  
living large on my prized basil.  

Come evening, after the stagnant  
midday, I feel the first cool breeze  

of autumn. I breathe it in like a traveller  
at the gate, asking for a drink from the well. 

What I Picked for the Journey

Sarah Russell14 Comments

My poem “What I Picked for the Journey” was published today by the wonderful Writing in a Woman’s Voice. My thanks to editor Beate Sigriddaughter.

What I Picked for the Journey

A strong walking stick that fits my grasp. 
Oatmeal raisin cookies.
A few favorite poems.
A heart-shaped pebble for my pocket.

I’ll leave on a day that promises sun 
and breeze and animal-shaped clouds. 
I’ll find wild blueberries and spring water
pure as a child’s wonder.

I’ll pass the hours remembering
forsythia in April, the softness 
of a baby’s skin, campfires, the smell 
of bread fresh from the oven. I’ll sleep 
where the milky way tumbles 
through the night sky and trees whisper 
to the wind.