By Cole W. Williams
I sunning and swim of a cormorant coven collecting on the banks of spring lake
II grandmother / thick corduroy slacks / strong dry hands / big knotted knuckles / hanging the line / hasn’t had the soreness in decades / as she dons / slip-on shoes / plastic baskets from 62’ / tulip designs / yellow on yellow / air moves / and watch dog waits / soft film of dirt / she reaches for the sheets / raised up and whips
III flapping flying wings, wind whipping sheets she arrives when they leave
...and we too are seeds sleeping, waiting for our time under the sun, each year trusting from memory, the array of summer’s sweet bouquet.
Does anyone love it more than the ones who wait? It’s stored with us, inside our husks: the whisper of a promise coming.
Cole W. Williams is a poet and a candidate for a Masters in Creative Writing at the Augsburg University in Minneapolis, MN. She is seeking a degree focused in poetry and creative non-fiction and currently is writing a lyrical essay.