Three Poems by Elizabeth Carothers Herron

Feel free to send poetry, fiction, non-fiction to vesta@sonic.net.
Every now and then I publish the print edition of the
West County ReaderTM.
In the mean time, the internet is a lovely resource for us all.

Taking the Christmas lights down

On the ottoman the wire coiled
around itself becomes a crown,
the tiny glass lights caught
in a slat of winter sun
are sudden thorns. Christmas
and crucifixion collide.

To think that your Jesus, the one
you call to in the dark, hung
opened and alone, his solitude
as deep as deep in his parting
from beloved flesh
as you are riven in it -- Jesus

you whisper and he is there
saying it’s good. Sweet Jesus
comes back from what he lost
on that cold cross, comes
into the dark warmth that with all
your calling cannot get close enough.


© elizabeth carothers herron


*****


Angel


My salt my sea my reel my ring
my fish my wind my wing my moon my mood
my stranger --

smallest smooth pebble
in my pocket, whisper in the spin
of my ear -- my maze my thread my minotaur
my shelter my hope my endless emptiness --

my coin my candle, my corner my quilt --
Open the window -- where are you?
Where can I find you in the bright bright
light of day? Little one

playing marbles on the playground --
you’ve got the cat’s eye, you’ve got the aggie.


© elizabeth carothers herron


*******

Sweet They Say


but she’s salty as the white block
in the pasture, salty

as the sea you take her to
with its tides and tsunami’s.

Press your hand to her throat
where the bees find their hum.

Listen
and you’ll learn secrets

without words -- the blessing
broken stars bestow

through leaves of black walnut,
the way her hands

weave seasons, the dream
her wedding gown is made of scars,

what the moon imagines
yearning toward full.


© elizabeth carothers herron