Five Poems by Jane Edberg

 

Fallen Fruit

 

A big wind tore up the garden, 

knocked the feijoas to the ground,

 

hundreds of blimp-shaped fruits, 

which I could have saved.

 

By the next day, they looked like mouths 

agape; something had scarfed their innards.

 

 

 

Birds Watching

 

The exterior walls of my studio are coated 

with periwinkle paint,

 

a cheer against the dense 

fog of the bay.

 

I often cartoon-capture my shadow moving 

between silhouettes of trees and birds flying. 

 

Sometimes, the trees wave and the birds watch. 

 

 

 

Muster

 

I used to perform a full 

squat when yanking 

carrots from the garden.

 

Now, the knees and waist

half-bend, forgetting my ass stuck 

out in an aging plié.

 

My mind has barely caught

up to what I can 

no longer do. 

 

 

 

Meanwhile

 

On a brisk morning walk

I saw a long school bus

  

and a bunch of kids pulling invasive 

ice plant from the coastal dunes

 

each competing with the other 

as to who could yank the biggest load

 

few want to do that hard work but 

all the children were full of joy 

 

and laughing, meanwhile teachers 

stood nearby staring into cell phones.  

 

 

 

Wait

 

It’s already noon, and I’m sitting 

up in bed wearing ugly pajamas and bed hair.

 

A chattering of starlings outside my window 

screams distress_—dysregulation.

 

Fightless, flightless, I seek the safe 

space for more choices, even resilience.

 

From my inner archive, I hear a Buddhist 

nun whisper, “Wait. Just Wait.”

*These poems are part of an epistolary poetry project, written in conjunction with poet, John Brantingham, where we respond to each other’s work.

Jane Edberg is the author of the award-winning book, The Fine Art of Grieving, an art illuminated memoir published by Linen Press Books, 2024. Her work can be found in the following books: My Dead, Kelsey Books, 2024; 42 Stories, a flash anthology, BAM 2024; Duo - Poetry by Women, Linen press 2024; Death, and it’s Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Beautiful Lessons: Field Notes from The Death Dialogues Project, Motina Books 2022; and in various literary journals such as: Gyroscope Review, Cholla Needles, and The Journal of Radical Wonder. Jane lives in Moss Landing with her husband and poodle, Oliver (as in Mary Oliver).