Four Poems by Samantha Terrell

 

Mother Made a Thousand Moons (Or, She Painted Moons)

 

 

tucked them all behind bookcases and under beds.  

 

The light shone out from beneath and around –  

illuminating our feet or our shoulders as we passed by,  

busy with tasks assumed more important. 

 

One day, there were too many to discreetly  

hide them all away. They overflowed from cabinets, 

filled every basket, closet, bedroom. 

 

At Christmastime, they were in every stocking and  

meticulously wrapped gift. She had to make sure 

we had too many to ignore.   

 

We must let the light in, keep it always in our hearts.

  

 

Why We Withhold Kindnesses

 

 

I wanted to bring oranges 

At Christmastime, 

And tell you I’m sorry 

I didn’t come sooner.  

But that would indicate intent, 

As though I wished I’d never left; 

As if I plan to come again.

 

A Conjoining

  

 

words and silence gather; lint caught in a dryer-trap 

waiting to be pulled out; torn apart, 

sat with; stood with; sat on; stood over, stared at 

the way of a wish on a birthday candle; until a whisper  

in a cave becomes an echo heard centuries later

 

 

Light Seekers

 

 

we frame up our idols' idols –   

rub of charcoal on paper, 

chiaroscuro enlightened by  

lightened darkness. 

 

idols always fail us. 

 

we look to them anyway.  

somehow hoping the dark won't 

overtake us, even as we  

shift so far from the light. 

 

pile on the charcoal to 

bring the flame.

Samantha Terrell is a poet, author, and curator of the poetry series, SHINE, featuring her fellow contemporaries from around the globe. Her poems have been widely published, including in:  Dissident Voice, Door=Jar, Eunoia Review, Fevers of the Mind, In Parentheses, Red Ogre Review, and others. Terrell and her family reside in Upstate New York where she cherishes sunbeams splattered on a hardwood floor and the quiet after snowfall.