Madlynn Haber
Expect Surprise
Lemon drops in morning teaTree trunks dappled by shadow shapesExpect nothing but surpriseSome days bring shocking newsOthers line up seeming just the sameNo way to tell which today will be Surprising in its steady samenessBewildering in a rush of confusionStartling in who it brings to the doorDisconcerting in what it takes away No day, no face, no leaf, no poemIs ever the same as any other
Finding Refuge
Finding refuge making a pot of stewits simmering sweet potatoes swimmingamid carrots cut with careful precision. Finding refuge in the daring comedianscommentary, drawing knowing nodswith truth filled jests, bringing laughter. Finding refuge in between the inhaleand the exhale, the pause in a spaceholds up everything in silent, stillness Finding refuge in a language of poetrypointing to inner scenes of beauty, serenity,memories of shared dawns, days, passages. Finding refuge in the night sky’sgathering of neighbors at a lossfor speech, seeking solace in a circle. When finding refuge is all this moment allows.
Winds Awaken Cold air awakens my face,gloved hands stay warm.It’s taken me a lifetime to learnnot to complain about the weather. What every day brings is neitherpunishment nor gift for you.Weather is not personal,it moves through on its own. Often we will fall asleep, rightwhen the day is bright and full.Miss where we are, while imaginingourselves some place better. It’s hard being the person you are whenyou can imagine being born another.It’s taken me a lifetime to learnto be no more or less than myself. I lost many a balloon letting goof the string. Some I have watchedtake flight, enjoying their skyward display.Other drifted away without ever being seen. Life gives us all the time we need to figureout its mysteries. To bring ourselves backwhen we lose our way, a cold wind slapsus in the face to remind us who we are.
Madlynn Haber lives in Northampton, Massachusetts. Her work has been published in the anthology Letters to Fathers from Daughters, in Anchor Magazine, and on websites including: Mused Literary Review, Hevria, Mothers Always Write, Random Sample, Club Plum Literary Journal, Ariel Chart, The Sunlight Press, Sparks of Calliope, Boston Literary Magazine. Visit her at www.madlynnwrites.com
Lemon drops in morning teaTree trunks dappled by shadow shapesExpect nothing but surpriseSome days bring shocking newsOthers line up seeming just the sameNo way to tell which today will be Surprising in its steady samenessBewildering in a rush of confusionStartling in who it brings to the doorDisconcerting in what it takes away No day, no face, no leaf, no poemIs ever the same as any other
Finding Refuge
Finding refuge making a pot of stewits simmering sweet potatoes swimmingamid carrots cut with careful precision. Finding refuge in the daring comedianscommentary, drawing knowing nodswith truth filled jests, bringing laughter. Finding refuge in between the inhaleand the exhale, the pause in a spaceholds up everything in silent, stillness Finding refuge in a language of poetrypointing to inner scenes of beauty, serenity,memories of shared dawns, days, passages. Finding refuge in the night sky’sgathering of neighbors at a lossfor speech, seeking solace in a circle. When finding refuge is all this moment allows.
Winds Awaken Cold air awakens my face,gloved hands stay warm.It’s taken me a lifetime to learnnot to complain about the weather. What every day brings is neitherpunishment nor gift for you.Weather is not personal,it moves through on its own. Often we will fall asleep, rightwhen the day is bright and full.Miss where we are, while imaginingourselves some place better. It’s hard being the person you are whenyou can imagine being born another.It’s taken me a lifetime to learnto be no more or less than myself. I lost many a balloon letting goof the string. Some I have watchedtake flight, enjoying their skyward display.Other drifted away without ever being seen. Life gives us all the time we need to figureout its mysteries. To bring ourselves backwhen we lose our way, a cold wind slapsus in the face to remind us who we are.
Madlynn Haber lives in Northampton, Massachusetts. Her work has been published in the anthology Letters to Fathers from Daughters, in Anchor Magazine, and on websites including: Mused Literary Review, Hevria, Mothers Always Write, Random Sample, Club Plum Literary Journal, Ariel Chart, The Sunlight Press, Sparks of Calliope, Boston Literary Magazine. Visit her at www.madlynnwrites.com