Dear Holly,

Epilogue

A fog of days, my log of time,
grows roots, branches into shoots,
forms pods heavy with seeds.

One seed holds the nights
I swayed under the back porch light,
one too many glasses of merlot.
My sons slept, their faces like orbs
glowing from the shadows of their beds.

Another seed spoons with the afternoons
I napped away the warm hours,
head slung back on the couch,
my boys sitting crisscross applesauce
on the floor, watching
an endless banner of cartoons.

A third is filled with mornings –
I toss them onto the soil,
and they uncoil from the earth
bearing the fruit of moments to be relived,

But when the seedcases burst,
the new days blend into the shaded
dreams of the past.
***

Visit Holly’s Lost Kite to read her fabulous poem about a person’s view of the present.

***

Jo and I are happy to announce the inaugural issue of ouroboros! We’re proud of this magazine, and have enjoyed putting it together very much. Please visit, and revel in its awesomeness.

***

If I haven’t responded to your blog posts lately it’s because I’ve been working on the magazine with Jo, and also because of the collaborative issue coming up at qarrtsiluni, edited by Dana and Nathan. So don’t kick me off your blogroll, or your googly reader, I’ll be back, promise.

Published by Christine

Christine Swint’s poems have appeared in Calyx, Birmingham Poetry Review, Slant, a Journal of Poetry, Tampa Review, Heron Tree, Ekphrasis, and others. Her poems have been nominated for the Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net, and Best New Poets, and she has won first place prizes from the Georgia Poetry Society and Agnes Scott College. Her first collection, Swimming This, was published in 2015 by FutureCycle Press. She teaches first-year composition at a metro-Atlanta university and writes about poetry, art, hiking, and yoga at Balanced on the Edge, https://balancedonedge.blog Twitter @christine_swint

12 thoughts on “Dear Holly,”

  2. beryl singleton bissell says:
    Reply

    This poem hits hard . . . “filled with longing to gather up the days.” I wonder if there are many of us mom’s who do not carry memories that we wish we could gather up and plant so that trees could grow from them, rather than have those seedpods burst and roll, unrecovered, into the past.

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  3. carolee says:
    Reply

    congrats on the magazine. it’s gorgeous. just gorgeous.

    and this piece is so good. i always appreciate reading someone else’s “why moms must drink wine” musings. 🙂 it’s great to be able to write in such a gentle way about these off-duty moments and the fact that they are not so off-duty and the fact that there’s no such thing as off-duty. 😦

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  5. dale says:
    Reply

    Christine, thank you. For the poem. For Ouroborus. For being in the world. You are one of those people who keeps the world from falling (too badly) apart.

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  9. Feldman the Robot says:
    Reply

    Hello Christine. I understand from Jo that you are open to being interviewed by me about your new journal. I am a robot, so I need facts straight from the source. Could you please confirm that this plan is acceptable to you? And will you also please work on a rap song to mark the occasion in some way? You know how I like rap songs, and I believe you promised me one long ago, but I can’t be sure that wasn’t someone else. I have many adoring female fans offering rap songs up to me as a way to get in my good graces.

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  10. Julie says:
    Reply

    Ha! Ha! Christine, get to working on that rap song. I want to hear the audio on this blog!

    ‘Tis just me again saying how much I love this poem. And many congratulations on ouroboros. Yes, you and Jo and everyone involved should be very proud. I’ll post it at my place with links when I have a bit of time to give it just credit and care. I’m chasing my tail again…shew.

    P.S. I’d never kick you off my blogroll! You can’t get rid of me that easily:) Take care.

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