THREE POEMS by NOLCHA FOX
Searching for a Poem in My Garden
My garden is a confusion
of profusion, much like
my jumbled words.
Not like next door,
plants standing at attention
in orderly rows.
My words can’t stand
still that long.
No, columbines carpet
my garden, choking
coral bells and lilies.
Rhyme pokes through
thick foliage,
brave flowers
crying for coffee.
Proud hollyhocks,
shouting colors,
rise high.
But hide
the bindweed
of their demise.
As within soaring sound
my words are strangled
by doubt and fear.
Iris leaves cluster,
pierce sunlight.
A meter my words
long to be.
Trails
Sleep slips
through a rip in reality,
leaves popcorn kernel
trails through disaster movies
and out the door.
Sleep kisses moonlight
on raspberry leaves,
dances on the lawn,
leaves dew-prints
that vanish into sunlight.
Sleep slips
between the lines
of old love letters,
leaves tear trails
that cry to the stars.
Luminous
The rain,
each droplet luminous,
reflects the
pathway lights.
Each light
transfigured
to a star,
reflects the
occasional
luminous star
in cloud breaks.
Water transfigured
to wine
to blood
to luminous sunrise.
Whispering wind
changes me to light,
makes me luminous, too.
Nolcha Fox [@NolchaF] has written all her life, starting with poop and crayons on the walls. That led to a long career in technical writing. She retired into blogging and short stories (27 published). In June 2021, she turned to poetry, and started publishing in July 2021. Her poems have appeared in the July and October WyoPoets News, Duck Head Journal, Ancient Paths, Dark Entries, The Red Lemon Review, and will appear in Corporeal Literary Magazine and the 2022 WyoPoets chapbook.