Untitled Poem by Constance Bacchus

from pixabay

they are only ducklings for a moment, mouths like shovels


as yet they cannot           see past 
the reeds                         float graceful 

islands sporadic in narrow 

channels                      the winds pick up
they say                       clouds in water

reflecting they echo     boulder columns  reflecting 

eagles              

                            dismissed lampreys & sturgeon 

hiding

                            trying to fly 

are drawn                     to swim

to the water      escape in the blues          
the wind            doesn’t reach

                                                       they aren’t left

& their colors                                 are not just 
of nature but        the wind explains 

the sun the sun    the           sharp acrid aroma of the fire
running                arms flailing to see them

entranced by        all the things they brag

Constance Bacchus currently lives with her daughter in the Upper Grand Coulee of  Washington state. Her poetry can be found in various literary journals including Cirque Journal, Dreich Broad Review, Permafrost Magazine, Blue River Review and Outlook Springs. Ms. Bacchus has a new poetry book out called divorcing flowers (Alien Buddha Press, 2021) and another soon through Red Mare Press. Recently she won a prize from Yakima Coffeehouse Poets but doesn’t know what it is yet. And sometimes, she works at the library.

By davidlonan1

David writes poetry, short stories, and writings that'll make you think or laugh, provoking you to examine images in your mind. To submit poetry, photography, art, please send to feversofthemind@gmail.com. Twitter: @davidLOnan1 + @feversof Facebook: DavidLONan1

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