Jenne Kaivo

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I am waiting. I’m waiting.
Where the stars meet the sound I am waiting.
I am here at the gate and can stare
Down the lane where the blackberries bake on their vines.

O March In Spring

The war expands a bit off where it’s
Bright and dry and I can’t see.
But here I’ve seen the bluebells bloom
More sort of violet, really.

Return From A Travel

The sidewalk oak will no more dance or tremble
When wind howls typhoon-strong past its street-corner;
Age makes the tree be proud and bare and grown, untrimmed.
I see your door where I once begged is now a hole

Whitewater Dive

Gravity pulled in the typical way
At a foot that ought not have been bare.
The mountain-goat stones do not hold to their own,
As slick things quite like to let go.

For Nathaniel

Nathaniel who stands on the green shouting,
“I am the first of my kind,
I am the finest you’ll find! ”


Marozia Jones 18 May 2005

Ms. (Mr.?) Kaivo must be making some enemies, but I found his/her poems delightful.

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7/31/2021 2:06:35 AM #