Dew On The Sea

Dew On the Sea by Claire Wahmanholm Star/savior is an infirm rhyme, but here:even the smallest music box will chimeif you place it all the way inside your ear.It’s like unfocusing your eyes to seethe nest snug within the burning wood;it’s like when the weather map pulses greenafter you look away from all that red;it’s like an artless belief in mercy(who is smarter and happier than youpermit yourself to be); it’s a near-dream.It all exists, but we may need to softenour bones to be born into it. Think dewon the sea, think hammered gold, think zygote.We may have to be both borne and boat. Poetry Home Art by Sean Riley

Away We Go

Away We Go by Claire Wahmanholm My question for love is this: how do I livethis way. Which way does the breath go. Which waythe blood as it runs. If I am alive and in love, how long will it hurt. Away we go, I say, climbing into the boat I did not make but every night am made to trust. I practice letting go: one beat, two beats, eighty per minute. Death has mowed more and more of the meadow. Each day I have fewer questions but they are all about pain, and what I would do to survive it. Or not, being un-brave. I wave and wave at my swimming daughter, whose stronger arms pull her from me into something stranger. Poetry Home Art by Cynthia Yatchman