poem

For My Sister

Sisters swinging on swingset in backyard
If I could turn back time
to that day on the swings
I would 

Summer clung to the air
jostling the canopy
of the Great Pecan Tree
He laughed with his whole heart
and so did we

Down and back
forwards and Up
Wild curls reeling
to catch the clouds

Faster, higher
sweeter, lighter
toes scraping the sky
The moment, our spaceship
suspended in delight

Before the kitchen door opens
Before the magic breaks
Two backyard pendulums
swing

© Amelia Isabel
Photo credit: Hannah Nicole

FIRST-TIME PUBLISHED AUTHOR!

GUYS, I’VE BEEN PUBLISHED!

Last July while lunching at Central Market,  the eensiest of weensiest of spiders landed on my shoulder  — a magnificent tiny speck of bright yellow topaz — that captivated my attention. It was as if she wanted me to paint her in words. So, I did.  I submitted the poem on a whim back in October and within a few days, learned that it was selected for publication. It was officially published on Every Day Poets yesterday. They even paid me ONE DOLLAR for my work! A whole dollar! My first dollar! Which I now have in my possession and shall be framed shortly.

Tonight at my monthly creative meetup, a friend shared the story of the Spider Grandmother, who, according to certain Native American legends, is thought to be Mother Earth or the creator of the universe. These myths say that when a spider shows itself, it is believed to be the Spider Grandmother communicating.

I am so very glad I listened.

To spiders, the earth, and first dolla bills!

The eight-legged amarillo aerialist

A visitor lands on the fleshy terrain —
only a tickle betrays her presence.

With assistance from my pen,
I help coax her
to a safer location.

The eight-legged amarillo aerialist
repels off my pen

and

onto

            the ketchup bottle,

invisibly cutting her bungee
and swinging
f  r  e  e  .

Suspended from the lip of the catsup’s cliff
she twirls in her harness,
perfecting her tricks.
Dazzling silk
in the sun.

Her audience of one applauds her so.

A breath escapes me,
and the amarillo aerialist

plummets

to the linoleum surface

but stops
just in time to admire her
r e f l e c t i o n
then yo-yos back up the side of Heinz.

Mesmerizing.

I laugh as she casts an invisible wire and zip-lines away into the sunset.

© Amelia Isabel