By Cynthia Arrieu-King
I was hanging with grandparents in a kindergarten
and the teacher drew an accordion wall across
to keep the children in antigravity class together
the grandparents separately graded balloon worksheets
sunlight floated in, the grandparents thoughtful about addition, mulling vacation
Come here I said to the little one too little to be in class, soft as peaches
I want to tell you something and you repeat it back to me next time
She toddled over, put her arms up to hug me, we hugged
She had stars inside her soul, was visibly celestial beneath her coat
More human than human, got it? I cuddled her
Okay, she said, I’m more human than a human
Source: Poetry (December 2017)
More Poems about Activities
When you caught one to keep,
we took it home and I asked you to teach me.
You showed me how to spike the brain—
I thanked the fish, looked away, pressed down.
We bled it, shaved away the scales,
severed meat from bone.
A Wing and a Prayer
We thought the birds were singing louder. We were almost certain they
were. We spoke of this, when we spoke, if we spoke, on our zoom screens
or in the backyard with our podfolk. Dang, you hear those birds? Don’t
they sound loud?...
More Poems about Living
A spring snow coincides with plum blossoms.
In a month, you will forget, then remember
when nine ravens perched in the elm sway in wind.
I will remember when I brake to a stop,
and a hubcap rolls through the intersection.
An angry man grinds...
At the Equinox
The tide ebbs and reveals orange and purple sea stars.
I have no theory of radiance,
but after rain evaporates
off pine needles, the needles glisten.
In the courtyard, we spot the rising shell of a moon,
More Poems about Religion
Wake up, greet the sun, and pray.
Burn cedar, sweet grass, sage—
sacred herbs to honor the lives we’ve been given,
for we have been gifted these ways since the beginning of time.
Remember, when you step into the arena of your life,
For the Feral Splendor That Remains
sometimes I strain