erickson

AMAZE

Holly Erickson

Southern Accent

Slow drawl
curls around the
lazy words and lingers
in humid air like magnolia
perfume.

Palm Reading

Her hand -
crinkled, ancient
and red like the earth that
bears her footprint, sparkling warm in
dusk’s glow.

Her hand -
empty, open
like the wind that carries
the song of the old ones, calling
always.

Crescent Bay

Razor
clams tile the beach
like shards of Ming vases,
blue-white porcelain crisp beneath
each step.

Summer Rain

After
you left it rained
hard tears. Lonely mist rose,
and I found comfort in its thin
embrace.

Clothesline Dance

Clean sheets
and linens puff
in the breeze, billowing
fresh sails, they bob and sway like boats
at sea.

Impetus

Yelling
becomes you in
the morning, sans coffee,
before breakfast, when all life seems
on edge.

Return to the front page of this issue: Amaze Vol. 3, No. 1 Spring & Summer 2004
Go to the Poets & Authors page for the poet's biographical sketch and email link.
These poems are Copyright © 2004 by Holly Erickson