1.
It’s dawn.
A smoky haze
deafens Seattle.
Headlines announce
we have the worst
air in the world.
My husband
makes oatmeal
and the air purifier
is running nonstop.
Most mornings,
we head to Green Lake
for a brisk three-mile walk.
What do waterfowl do
when air is laden
with particulates?
I wonder about
the resident heron
we like to watch.
Will she be standing
beneath willow fronds
when tomorrow’s rain
finally descends?
2.
Carolyn thought
the stationary bird
a paper cut-out.
Is that you,
still and upright
there in the tall grasses?
Could you be my mother
with your belly
full of fish?
Are you my sister
after her last
exhalation?
Once you leapt
into my sky
to praise my wingspan.
Today
you recede
in the distance.
No signal
left to me
but memory.
When will
your narrow legs
strut across shallow water?
poems have recently been published in Banshee, Beir Bua, The Plague Papers, and The Ekphrastic Review as well as in several anthologies. Her poems have received three Pushcart nominations and her chapbook Postcards from the Lilac City was published by Finishing Line Press in 2020.
