December 2015
Tobi Alfier
riffy@socal.rr.com
riffy@socal.rr.com
I am a tired mom, who crunches numbers during the day to give people good retirements, and writes at night. I have been writing poetry for thirty five years or so, but only started reading and publishing in 2005. Occasionally a piece of micro-fiction sneaks in, but I am 99.9% a poet. Along with my husband, poet and photographer Jeffrey Alfier, I publish chapbooks for poets we love under our Blue Horse Press imprint, and co-edit and co-publish the San Pedro River Review, a semi-annual national and international journal of poetry and art. I am delighted to see some of our SPRR contributors in Verse-Virtual’s impressive and lovely list of poets.
Ripening
It is summer.
You are 50 going on 20,
she is your girl next door.
She invents the words you want to say,
laughs as she climbs a tree and
dares you to come get her,
move in close and hold her -
Her hair wild like blackberry brambles
offering themselves and their fruit,
her kiss sweet as tea.
Wild and sweet, bare knees and
skinned elbows she reaches
her arms ‘round your neck and
pulls you toward her. That secret place,
you go back again and again.
The luminous wind
and the mockingbird.
Your voice. Her voice.
Previously published in Cadence Collective
Midnight Meditation
It will be a month of lonely evenings
she said, we see the same moon
but not the same dawn, only she will
smell the ocean.
They drink coffee
together in the morning and wine
together at night, together being
imagine my arms around you,
imagine my kisses in a month
they will be real.
The hawk soars over beloved hills
offering hope that straight flight
means the heart’s desire knows no
boundaries, no whispers, only
wings and tides, it shall be.
Previously published in CircleShow
It is summer.
You are 50 going on 20,
she is your girl next door.
She invents the words you want to say,
laughs as she climbs a tree and
dares you to come get her,
move in close and hold her -
Her hair wild like blackberry brambles
offering themselves and their fruit,
her kiss sweet as tea.
Wild and sweet, bare knees and
skinned elbows she reaches
her arms ‘round your neck and
pulls you toward her. That secret place,
you go back again and again.
The luminous wind
and the mockingbird.
Your voice. Her voice.
Previously published in Cadence Collective
Midnight Meditation
It will be a month of lonely evenings
she said, we see the same moon
but not the same dawn, only she will
smell the ocean.
They drink coffee
together in the morning and wine
together at night, together being
imagine my arms around you,
imagine my kisses in a month
they will be real.
The hawk soars over beloved hills
offering hope that straight flight
means the heart’s desire knows no
boundaries, no whispers, only
wings and tides, it shall be.
Previously published in CircleShow
©2015 Tobi Alfier