stained glass, image by pixelia, on Pixabay, modified
The edging of days
Straight, on, without sliding corners; crossing
borders. Not past altars, simple sides.
Moved here, to forget? The big chapel south
faces beams - bravely - might save a daylight.
My eyes will always tend for starless windows,
He is ever right. He smiles back, shades made
fun. Now, music, in all rooms; a faithful dawning
is enough. I may read my safe-poetry in bed, later.
The greys keep together - don’t they? - down my horizon
anyway. He answers the world is not conclusive.
Once, a numb eagle, high among the bluest California,
it chased the chickens and I set a net. I escaped.
The air touches, skull to toes; my shoulders crumble,
the sun left yesterday. I overstay the lost I love.
In this far-away part of Kingston, the little lights
in smaller streets. All I ever wanted.
Take my hand, He calls. Out, past Bushy Park shining,
a tall crying landscape. Now, gently, we share.
______________________
Kate Copeland’s love for languages led her
to teaching, her love for art & water to poetry.
Please find her pieces @The Ekphrastic Review, WildfireWords, Gleam, Spirit Fire Review,
First Lit.Review-East, and @ https://www.instagram.com/kate.copeland.poems/
Kate is curator-editor for The Ekphrastic Review and runs linguistic-poetry workshops for that
journal & The International Women’s Writing Guild. She was born @harbour city and adores
housesitting @the world.
July 2024 issue
Kate Copeland has such a unique voice in her writing. Always amazes me. I love: "My eyes will always tend for starless windows" and "the little lights in smaller streets. All I ever wanted."