A Poem by Trina Gaynon

Down my Chimney

　

Pissed when it meets the damper,

Spring wind tries to lure

me into opening

to it with tales of sweeping across

the Pacific Ocean

and islands

where air is heavy with green rot,

soil fertile from volcano ash.

 

But I keep sweeping up last

winter’s ashes. The wind,

finding its way

through chinks

in the bricks, has taken to scattering

ash over the furniture,

reminding me--

the remains of some fires never

 

feel roots creep from seeds

buried

where ocean going birds and wind drop them.

 

 

 

Trina Gaynon’s poems have appeared in the anthologies Bombshells and Knocking at the Door, as well as numerous journals including Natural Bridge, Reed and the final issue of Runes. Her chapbook An Alphabet of Romance is available from Finishing Line Press. Forthcoming publications in anthologies include: A Ritual to Read Together: Poems in Conversation with William Stafford, Saint Peter’s B-list: Contemporary Poems Inspired by the Saints, Obsession: Sestinas for the 21^st Century, and Phoenix Rising from the Ashes: Anthology of Sonnets of the Early Third Millennium.