Poem of the Week #81

Fear Not

Do not be afraid
of the long empty days of removal,
the last visit or the first goodbye.

Do not be afraid
of jugglers, sharp shooters,
or short order cooks.

Fear not the bellows;
the way it sucks and sends forth wind.
Fear not the riptide.

For as small as you may be,
you have an arsenal at your back;
your own private army of angels.

They stand at the gate of consciousness
and watch who comes in and who goes out.
They can stay up all night

playing cards ‘round a rickety table.
No gin and cigars, but they are your bedrock.
No swearing, but they are as tough as nails.


Lisa Vihos

Poem of the Week #80

Getting Ready to Breathe

When you were a fish
inside your momma,
there came a day
when you knew
you could no longer
remain cramped up
in her dark, wet belly.

On that day, you knew
you would have to try
the world of air.
You craved your lungs
and the inhale/exhale
that would soon become
your second nature.

You weren’t quite sure
how to do it. So,
you just let yourself
be pushed through
the sweetest hole in the world.
Then alone, outside,
you found air a good thing.


Lisa Vihos

Poem of the Week #79

Down by the Lake

Low lying strata of clouds
press down upon the lake at dusk
in cool grey blues. Then incoming,
slow, a hot pink glow burnishes the cloud tips
as the sun sets somewhere far away
on the other side of town.

The lake is calm here,
though storm clouds huddle
on every horizon and steely
columns of rain advance
like tipsy soldiers after the battle,
coming in for a good soak.

I expect something is about to happen.
What it is, I cannot say. Could be
the rain will come, or not. I do sense
(like the gull hanging on the updraft)
that the light wind holding the lone,
brave sailboat, also holds me.

Lisa Vihos