Tricia Knoll Verse-Virtual 2017 March

March 2017

I continue to be processing the events since the inauguration -- and am working in an online class with Kim Stafford to understand the process William Stafford used to write daily. At the same time, this Oregon winter has been particularly gloomy. triciaknoll.com

New Administration’s Winter

Boasts are anagram boats
that bluff through waves.
The pelican knows the trough.
Lies slant rhymes with sly.
Facts are icicles melting.

I Looked for a Harbinger

I thought it might be the full moon, tattered clouds
pulling back. Full moon on this night when rivers flood,
cars float at crosswalks, gutters back up, roofs leak.
A full moon, any moon at all, after weeks of rain
and snow might have been enough. A lamp.

Slumped from a meeting about democratic process
on a warmed-up night that mixed days of rain
and snowmelt into treachery, it might have been
a glance into the coffee shop steamed with latte-making,
a couple in the window seriously together. A love.

My car parked under a naked tree of wicked sticks
balancing in limbs from the blow-downs. The car
down the block waits at a stop sign, headlights
on wet pavement, black without streetlights.
Loose-joint trot in front of the car, unafraid. A coyote.

Editor's Note: If this poem(s) moves you please consider writing to the author (email address above) to tell him or her. You might say what it is about the poem that moves you. Writing to the author is the beginning of community at Verse Virtual. It is very important. -FF