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Linda M. Crate Poetry

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summer’s quick breath

knees in the dirt

sun in the sky,

picking tomatoes

in the garden

then drifting over to the

green beans and cucumbers

witnessing the pumpkins

larger than me

almost bigger than cinderella’s carriage;

gold flecks in my hair

playing with the brown turning

it a coppery blonde

as jack decides to lay down in the cool

soil and give me the cutest looks

i smile thinking that to cats

life must be some grand adventure

because they have no one to answer to

yet he was always loyal

followed me around like a dog;

sunflowers gazed for miles

as we frolicked in the grass together

summer days browning my skin

causing freckles to erupt on my arms and legs

long days and chores seemed to disappear

together in a quickening breath of time

as the seasons of gardens and swimming ended

school began again and off to college

i disappeared.

– linda m. crate

 

 

time is a cruel master

daffodils with their bent heads

succumbing to an untime winter frost

my favorite flowering tree blooms

half-living, half-dead

petals strewn all over the sidewalk

dancing with winter’s snow in some cruel

smirk of winter that seems to want to put spring

in her place;

but she comes back with sunlight so bright

that winter has no choice but to flee

with all his wind, ice, and snow—

i was killed by winter once, too,

and the regrowth although necessary was the most

painful thing i have ever endured because

fashioning chaos into a compliment and rising from

the ashes of ruin even on the wings of an

immortal phoenix isn’t easy;

every season seems to want to last longer than time

has given them breath

even spring begs summer for just one moment,

but summer cannot abide by that request;

time is a cruel mistress

before we blink it will be autumn again,

and then winter will come and fall into his season

without apology or mercy;

so i will remain in this song of summer

grateful for the lilies whose beauty has always to me

surpassed that of any other flower,

but i have yet to meet a flower that i did not like

they all seem so kind to me.

– linda m. crate

 

 

even these bones are not mine

these walls

aren’t mine and the paint that is on them

reminds me that every house is simply

a coffin for the living

each room housing memories

both good and bad,

and it seems it’s the nightmares that revisit me

like the universe cannot let me hold onto

the petal of anything kind;

i aspire to be compassionate to all

but sometimes i lose my

temper instead—

these curtains aren’t mine

i’ve always found them ugly,

but my grandmother

thinks they’re cute;

yet i cannot help but look at them in disdain

every time i pass them in the kitchen

my mouth a half-snarl like an angry wind

wielding it’s fury in the coldest and sharpest fang

of winter’s nights—

all i have is this body

yet sometimes it doesn’t feel as if it is mine

because the bones can be heavy,

and the lips can lisp songs i do not remember;

no one owns my bones not even me

because they are made of star dust and water

that was borrowed from an ancient psalm

knit together by the moon

who birthed me into life.

– linda m. crate

 

Author Linda M. CrateSocial Media Links:
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Bio:  Linda M. Crate is a Pennsylvanian native born in Pittsburgh yet raised in the rural town of Conneautville. Her poetry, short stories, articles, and reviews have been published in a myriad of magazines both online and in print. She has three published chapbooks A Mermaid Crashing Into Dawn (Fowlpox Press – June 2013), Less Than A Man (The Camel Saloon – January 2014), and If Tomorrow Never Comes (Scars Publications, August 2016). Her fantasy novel Blood & Magic was published in March 2015. The second novel of this series Dragons & Magic was published in October 2015. The third of the seven book series Centaurs & Magic was published November 2016. Her novel Corvids & Magic was published March 2017.




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Published inPoetry

3 Comments

  1. Ben Ben

    Amazing poems she has here. Linda is unarguably an author with loads of experience. Her use of words is out of this world. Summer’s quick breath sounds like talk of love between two love birds, though it’s about summer. This is poetry that leaves you wanting more. Kudos

  2. Steve Steve

    Linda has inspired me deeply to start writing poetry on my own…I am amazed how her short poems have deep meaning telling us so much about summer, love & life… Looking forward for more such amazing work Linda!

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