March 2021
Mary McCarthy
Mmccarthy161@gmail.com
Mmccarthy161@gmail.com
Bio Note: I am a retired RN with a life long love of words and visual art. My poems
have appeared in many journals and anthologies, most recently The Plague Papers, edited
by Robbi Nester, The Ekphrastic World, edited by Lorette Luzajic, and the latest issue of
Earth’s Daughters.
Wild Night
Chased out of sleep By a flaming tiger Roaring down at me Like a golden comet Getting close enough To singe my hair And put a hot kiss On my neck Sure to leave a scar That won’t fade When he drives me out Into the next day With its dull safety The familiar chain Of hours in step Like soldiers All the same Making me turn back To look over my shoulder Remembering his Breathtaking Wild disorder Sweet and dangerous A fatal glory So real I can still Taste it
March
The dregs of winter And we celebrate With hyacinths in every room Making us dizzy with Their ripe perfumes We watch cardinals flare Red in the dark pines Coming in by the dozen For our oily sunflower seeds We too are hungry Tramping out in the mud To scour for the first Slip of new green For the willows striking yellow Against the bare blacks Of slower trees The eager drum Of woodpeckers Announcing return The leaves thumbing up Through the earth Unfazed by snow And the icy hiss of sleet Nothing can stop it now The season’s turn Rises light As champagne bubbles Busy as yeast In a new loaf Clean as a baby Taking its first Astonished breath
©2021 Mary McCarthy
Editor's Note: If this poem(s) moves you please consider writing to the
author (email address above) to tell her or him. You might say what it is about the poem that moves you. Writing to the author is what builds the community at Verse Virtual.
It is very important. -JL