Poetry

For examples of my most recent work please visit my blog.

 

October

October is tempestuous enough to suit me today,

for I’ve neither the warm welcome of an August sun,

nor the icy bitterness of a storm in January.

 

No, my mood is all October

filled with swirling gusty winds

and tenacious leaves clinging to their branches.

 

I am October, crowned in the glory of a crimson canopy,

refusing to go into winter unseen, heedless of the looming frost

as I revel in the last glowing embers of summer’s fire.

 

One last dance before closing,

One last story before sleeping,

One last star before the morning,

 

All breathless glory before the night ends

and a new season begins.

 

– Erin Carlson

 

Mamá Was Magic

Nunca dijiste

how I felt

pero cuando era niña

mí mamá was magic.

 

I would stand by the stove

and watch as she flipped tortillas

con dedos desnudos

and not get burnt,

 

Mi aliento catching

en la garguanta

porque Mamá was so brave

she didin’t notice the heat.

 

Nunca dijiste,

how I felt

pero cuando era niña

mí mamá was magic,

 

she could fix my broken toys

with tape

and my broken heart

con besos

 

Mamá y yo

we were problem solvers

like Rosie the Riveter

We could do anything

 

Nunca dijiste,

how I felt

pero cuando era niña

mí mamá was magic.

 

– Erin Carlson

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