How the sun glimmers and glistens through Valley Oaks on a rustic hillside. How the warmth permeates amber honey skin and a tense body loosens. How the ground cover of fallen autumn leaves aches of a soothing vibrancy. How I breathe between these happenings. How yearning for more makes the muscles weak, turns the heart to a tiny blue egg, an oval shape, a crack on all sides as if someone took it and threw it into the night sky. How the brittle shell was adorned with cornflower and flaxen. How I came home to myself after the breaking, half-human, half-bird. How winter frost is arriving again. How a hunger remains. How the Burrowing Owl and the American Robin observe, witnessing all of this. How they don’t swallow time in the same way or long for difference. What if all of this was enough?
Photo by Georgina Marie, Autumn Leaves, Lakeport, CA
Georgina Marie is a poet from Lakeport, Northern California. She is the current Lake County Poet Laureate for 2020-2022, the first Mexican-American and youngest to serve in this role for Lake County, and is the new Volunteer Literary Coordinator for the Lake County Arts Council. She has served as co-editor for the Middletown Art Center’s RESILIENCE and RESTORE collections of written word and visual arts, and is an assistant poetry editor for Rivet Journal, an online literary journal from Red Bridge Press. In 2020 she was an Anne G. Locasio scholar for the Mendocino Coast Writers Conference Poetry Workshop. As part of the Broken Nose Collective, an annual chapbook exchange, she created her first poetry chapbook Finding the Roots of Water (2018) and her second chapbook Tree Speak (2019). In Sept 2020, she became the Poet in Residence for Karma Compass. Visit her website at www.georginamariepoet.com.
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2 Comments
There you go again, haunting me with your insight. Your poem is just like this moment: Full to capacity and taking one long breath into the waiting darkness. And, you’re the light, too.
Karma Compass 
There you go again, haunting me with your insight. Your poem is just like this moment: Full to capacity and taking one long breath into the waiting darkness. And, you’re the light, too.
Thank you dear Edissa 🙏🏼