Poems / Randi Ward

 

Dam

 

Lonesome

lock whistles

never know

why

they’re wailing

but blame

the river.

 

 

Pond

 

I reflect it all

with my evaporating

spirit of rain.

 

 

 

Grackles

 

Convening

at the corners

of my eyes

to confirm

this life

sentence.

 

 

 

February

 

For a second

you forget

it’s the dead

leaves

rustling

overhead.

 

 

 

Wake

 

Coal barge

steaming

north,

 

waves

rolling

ashore:

 

the sound

of a soul

 

leaving

 

its body.

 

 

 

 

Overburden

 

I’ve always been

my greatest burden,

but I bore it

knowing I was

a mountain.

 ´

 

 

 

 

Tadpole

 

When

you’re stuck

in a rut,

everything depends

on the weather.

 

 

 

 

Median

 

A crow

caught between

four lanes of traffic

can’t tell

which way

the wind’s blowing.

 

 

 

 

 

Ground

 

Why build

so much

fence

when you can’t

even keep grass

on a piece

of ground?

 

 

 

 

Ladybug

 

There’s something

to be said

for silence

when

your house

is always

burning.

 

 

 

//

Randi Ward says about herself:

Who I am?
Born and raised in West Virginia. Humanized in Norway. Recovering Faroephiliac living on an island of fire and ice.
What I do?
I write poems, essays, short stories, plays, song lyrics and whatnot. I’ve also been known to take photos and translate literature.
Am I crazy?
No, I’m just a well-informed, critical thinker who can’t stand self-serving phonies or institutional incompetence. That scares some people.”

 

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