Fallison Lake

June. We search for ladyslippers
growing by pines near boggy ponds.
Wind makes little sound when it stirs—

for now we feel free from dangers,
headlines. The forest’s green deepens
June. We search for ladyslippers,

listen to competing songs—birds
belt out their latest number ones.
Wind makes little sound when it stirs

new grass. Take my hand, love. It’s yours.
Last autumn’s leaves, no longer bronze.
June. We search for ladyslippers

hiding from us interlopers—
when we talk, their silence responds.
Wind makes little sound when it stirs

briefly, a cat who wakes up, purrs,
runs off looking for liaisons.
June. We search for ladyslippers.
Wind makes little sound when it stirs.

 

originally appeared in Tipton Poetry Journal (2006)

Published by

Kenneth Pobo

Kenneth Pobo has six full-length collections of poetry and, including Ice And Gaywings, twenty chapbooks. His latest book, from Blue Light Press, is called Bend Of Quiet, and Booking Rooms in the Kuiper Belt is forthcoming from Urban Farmhouse Press. Ken began writing at age fifteen. He teaches creative writing and English at Widener University in Chester, Pennsylvania. He and his partner and two cats enjoy gardening, music, and the Wisconsin Northwoods. Catch Ken’s radio show, Obscure Oldies, on Saturdays from 6:00-8:30 pm EST at WDNR 89.5 FM.