POETRY

Reading Poetry Before the Storm

By

In the garden of solace I ponder the coldness
of words: taking heroic measures
to save a heart against all advice.

The flowers flourish in waves,
clumps filling out, bare spots thirsty
between new plantings of echinacea.
I turn a page, I drink dark beer from a bottle.
The light is swallowed up,
drafts of warm air shoving clouds
inside themselves until they burst.
A flash, then count. A few spatters,
perhaps only shuffled from the yard maples,
but I close the book as a precaution.
Finally, the hollow drum roll,
down from the mountain southward,
heaving over the spine of hills to the sea.

Anne Britting Oleson has been published widely in the North America, Europe and Asia. She earned her MFA at the Stonecoast program of USM. She has published two chapbooks, The Church of St. Materiana (2007) and The Beauty of It (2010). She lives with her family on the side of a mountain in central Maine.

I turn a page, I drink dark beer from a bottle.
The light is swallowed up,
drafts of warm air shoving clouds
inside themselves until they burst.