January 2024
Angela Hoffman
hoffmangie@gmail.com
hoffmangie@gmail.com
Bio Note: I began writing poems at the start of the pandemic. My poetry collections include Resurrection Lily (2022), Olly Olly Oxen Free (2023), and Hold the Contraries, forthcoming 2024 (Kelsay Books). My work has been widely published. I live in rural Wisconsin.
I Take Lessons From Nature
Outside the stars perch on the hem of the black-smocked night. Twigs scratch the round moon, and scarlet berries sleep under a nest of straw, while honey bees become the furnace in their hives. So as the cold nuzzles with her soft fat flakes, with bated breath I cobble together a nest, shape us a soft place where we can snuggle in tight, together. I gather greens from the pines, birch branches with their small knuckles and lacy fingers, tuck them everywhere inside our home, alongside findings of flannel and red plaid, and twinkling lights.
Ukulele Lesson
Sometimes we seem worlds apart; you’re strung slack, I’m strung too tight, and it’s hard, and we fret and fail to fit, find our tune. We hear things so differently, we misconstrue, read too much or too little into what was meant by the pitch in our voices. There is lack of agreement between the truth and what we want to believe. And here we are now at our first lesson, trying to learn to make music. Your fingers are too large, and I can’t sing the melody nor read a single note. So you tap the rhythm and sing while I strum the chords. The dissonance is lost in the harmony of us trying together.
I Wouldn’t Trade What I Have for Two in the Bush
What is it about birds? They show up in my poems, on shoulders in my paintings, whispering wisdom into ears. There are cranes on my yoga mat. I use a turkey feather when smudging sage. Nests line my mantel and feathers are stuck in things that can be stuck, and I keep eggs I find broken on the ground. I’m especially fond of the ones that are blue. I have bird statues made of cement, wood, iron, and today I bought a birdcage when thrifting. Its door is missing. What about that caged bird? I love birds on a wire, a new perch of perspective, and how the robins delight in taking a bath, those tiny wrens making good trouble, the loyalty of the doves. Is it about hope on wings, or that I’m worth more than the sparrows? And what about that bird in the hand?
©2024 Angela Hoffman
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