Poetry 5


In February, I saw a man
stroking the limbs
of a tree

Stark, without leaves
growing through
a bed of green ivy

Disheveled, he was
stroking as if the tree
was a dog

Neatly dressed, I walked by
wondering if the man
was unbalanced, or if I was

—Maureen Fitzgerald

—Asaph Guedes

The Monster in the Waves

I wish that I could sail away
safe harbor for to find
over crest and vale away
where life’s not so unkind

Each day I surf a wave of horror brought on by a world that is relentless in its ravenous humor
I try to be mindful in the moment but each moment is terrifying so more often than not I
squeeze my eyes shut and hope what is advancing isn’t real but alas it always is and I soon
discover I am yet again wounded by its ferocity and this monster of the circumstance of living
is the creature I fear most over which I have no control and which brings me to my knees in
the dinghy that is carrying me from birth to death and beyond as that is the span of time we
inhabit and perhaps there is a time beyond consciousness in which I was not/am not/will not
be pursued and pulled under by a force greater than my ability to tread water I drown I drown
I am falling into the darkness of the deep.

—Janet Guastavino