Four Poems by Laurie Kuntz

 

Ovation

 

If this is my last poem

may my words continue.

 

I’ll relax in breaths of finality--  

 

I’ve joined in the laughter,

the clapping after music, 

a hearty dinner, frivolities 

in all its forms.

 

I stand in ovation 

for strong backs, working hips, 

and hops to places that I wish 

never to leave.

 

I will stay-- 

 

with those who love a porch, 

a bloom of bougainvillea, 

a dry, but crooked path after rain,

and the presence of every two,

four, or eight-footed living thing. 

 

If this is my last poem,

I will rejoice in the fluency of thought,

but still mourn because there is room for that

in a world that goes on with or without me.

 

 

The Dahlia's Lament

 

Alone with your dad

and his present:

a single red dahlia

 

which I potted in fresh soil,

and placed in a shaded far

corner of my garden.

 

On Mother’s Day

you are 21, in Denmark

without a plan in your pocket

 

but to see a girl.

my dahlia,

Your Ophelia,

 

damn Denmark.

 

I am at the start

of every mother’s

journey.

 

Monarch in January

 

One January morning, from an unseen corner

out flew a Monarch, this queen of color,

 

braving in winter the flight of fragility.

While generations retreated

 

from ice and wind and frozen limb

this one butterfly,

 

tired of migrating away from cold,

against all instinct found, between frozen airways,

 

space for her coral wings to nest. 

As she landed on my snow brushed glove,

 

icy star tipped flakes on limp, felt fingertips,

began to melt.   

 

Icarus Flying

 

Before the fall, Icarus flew—

 

Every bird, curious and jealous

of his unabashed wingspread,

and how he, unjaded as a starling,

approached, on the verge of victory,

the open, forgiving blue tear

between the nefarious clouds.

 

With austere abandon, we seek,

in what we love, the same victory—

 

Hoping our wings will withstand,

but in the end, it is not the strength

of feathers and wax, or splendour of flight—

 

What astonishes is knowing

at the journey’s end, how to land.

 

Laurie Kuntz is a widely published and award winning poet. She has been nominated for a Pushcart and Best of the Net prize. She has published two poetry collections (The Moon Over My Mother’s House, Finishing Line Press, Somewhere in the Telling, Mellen Press), two chapbooks (Simple Gestures, Texas Review, Women at the Onsen, Blue Light Press).  Her 5th poetry collection, Talking Me off the Roof, is forthcoming from Kelsay Press in late 2022. Many of her poems are a direct result of working with refugees in refugee camps soon after the Vietnam War years.  Recently retired, she lives in an endless summer state of mind. Visit her at: 

https://lauriekuntz.myportfolio.com › home-1