Wednesday, April 26, 2023

National Poetry Month : Valerie Coulton,

 

June letter

 

 

that time of year
full of clothes
& songs
boxes of shoes
I write to you:
do you need some dust?
we have plenty, just let us know
you write to me:
so green
& those long shadows
you know the ones
here the holiday makers
are arriving
hats & bags
crossword puzzles
shorts, sunburn
all the words
that came out of our
small white radio
into the hue
yesterday
a lizard appeared on the wall
with its spots
& splayed feet
& when I passed by again
it was gone
I don’t know
pale day spills around
us here, the kind that
stays morning until nightfall
& there are still plenty
of birds
E is reading The City and the House
with its confused pages
& turquoise cover
epistolary, sad
brushed with gold
smeared a little
the book was falling apart
when we received it
I held it like a
small animal
exchanged my sleep
for its unfolding

 

 

 

 

Valerie Coulton’s books include still life with elegy, small bed & field guide (both from above/ground press), open book (Apogee Press), and The Cellar Dreamer (Apogee Press). With husband Edward Smallfield, she’s the co-author of lirio and anonymous, both from Dancing Girl Press. She lives in Barcelona and co-edits parentheses, an annual journal of international writing. She is also a co-editor at Apogee Press and she curates palabrosa.net, an online chapbook and interview series. 

 

1 comment:

Larry Delinger said...

I love yr poem Valerie. A story of life as it passes by while you catch little bits that mean so much. Thanks
Love
Larry Delinger