In unconscious grouchiness
In unconscious grouchiness
Sometimes you fall through the ice
to the bottom of the pond
Other times you’re in a faraway city
like Austin or L.A.
Each time you’re majestic
and forgivable, at least to me
Standing tall up against
the trunk of a silver maple
Its branches a bird nest halo
for your future heavenly form.
Death Poem
The desire to follow
that strand of flannel
through space.
Contributor(s)
Lisa Jarnot
Lisa Jarnot is the author of several books of poems. She lives in Queens and is a minister at Safe Haven United Church of Christ.
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