elysabeth faslund Poems

Old King James...are you to
Blame for lack of rays
Into cold rooms where
Monks, scribes, carved
...

I will see you in Nepal, perhaps.
Singapore, Cairo, Katmandu.
...

My lord sovereign King Louis XIV, to
Whom I take pen in hand to
Announce the news,
We're here.
...

A pretty, young girl strolls
Among the trees and leaves
Causing grasses to straighten
After she has passed on
...

Father...do not worry for me today. Sleep for a time, as I.
Gather the Cedars and Rock around you.
Be content.
Be still for a short while.
...

Mornings were created for the innocent animals,
To see their way, in bramble, on paths where,
Forever their brothers, predators, waited...
In shadows, under bowers, and treetop high.
...

Caffeine pot bleeping, leaves falling,
Chickens scratching, pines sighing...
OH GOD! ! NO! Not sunshine! ! ! !
You reneged! You promised Eve
...

And, in the Evening,
When life calls from
The mother bird's
Throat....
...

Traveling along edges of morning...
Dewed grasses
Brush our shoes...
Paths not present hours before
...

Maybe Hurricane Andrew was not enough...
Shifting, moving my home just three
Times...
On the foundation.
...