It's just poetry, it won't bite


09.11.19 Posted in today's words by

Rosalind Kaliden’s most recent poem to appear here was “April Morning, 2016” (August 2019).

By Rosalind Kaliden

Outside my window
the last of autumn’s sumac leaves
stick to the branch’s crown,
like the red tail feathers
of the eponymous hawk
diving toward a mole.

Two thin-skinned grapes,
bridged by an inch of rinse water
in a shallow bowl,
are remnants of his morning’s proffering.

The stinkbug clings to the outdoor screen.
His angle creates an artificial image:
Inside, he climbs up the linen lampshade.
The body always seeks heat.

On the floor next to my bed,
my cork slides lie side by side
within my blind toe’s reach.

One Response to “Randomness”

  1. Ed Zahniser says:

    Learned a new foot gear! Thanks.

    Cork slides
    Grapes roll
    Hawks stoop
    Stinkbugs cling
    Sumac leaves

Leave a Reply

Subscribe to Blog via Email

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 2,351 other subscribers

Latest Podcast Episode
vox poetica archives
%d bloggers like this: