Catriona Knapman’s most recent poem to appear here was “Union” (January 2017)

Souvenir
By Catriona Knapman

Sitting in the garden, with a bowl full of cherries and eating every one.
Guarded by Angels of the Nile.

Stopping the car, a soundtrack of crickets,
learning to be small,
overwhelmed by a star-covered sky.

Waking at three am to the ghostly night light of the moon.

Leaning out the car window to get an action shot of the Golden Gate Bridge.

Outside theatre, wrapped in blankets, the frozen chill of the finale.

Crying for a fallen bear.

Sun-warmed Missions that know the secret of peace.

Rose gardens which perch on top of a Metropolis.

Missing the sunset, the colours already dripping from the sky.

Rain which is timed to sprinkle at night.

The cymbal crash of a high altitude thunder storm.

Pelicans resounding over rolling oceans.

Poppies which dance at the edge of the bay.

Sea otters which sing with rainbow drums.

Natives who know all the steps, all the words.

Golden hills, which make fools not seem so foolish.