Sunday, August 11, 2013

A Poem by Trina Gaynon

Down my Chimney
Pissed when it meets the damper,
Spring wind tries to lure
me into opening
to it with tales of sweeping across
the Pacific Ocean
and islands
where air is heavy with green rot,
soil fertile from volcano ash.
But I keep sweeping up last
winter’s ashes. The wind,
finding its way
through chinks
in the bricks, has taken to scattering
ash over the furniture,
reminding me--
the remains of some fires never
feel roots creep from seeds
where ocean going birds and wind drop them.
Trina Gaynon’s poems have appeared in the anthologies Bombshells and Knocking at the Door, as well as numerous journals including Natural Bridge, Reed and the final issue of Runes. Her chapbook An Alphabet of Romance is available from Finishing Line Press. Forthcoming publications in anthologies include: A Ritual to Read Together: Poems in Conversation with William Stafford, Saint Peter’s B-list: Contemporary Poems Inspired by the Saints, Obsession: Sestinas for the 21st Century, and Phoenix Rising from the Ashes: Anthology of Sonnets of the Early Third Millennium.

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