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Earthquake in Blossom Time, a poem by Doris Lynch

Earthquake in Blossom Time
by Doris Lynch

I fold into
my pocket the
handkerchief
you used shortly
before dying
and go out to greet
the backlit clouds,
so frolicsome
and adventurous.

In the neighbor’s yard
redbuds offer
their mauve tears.
Poking through
lawn’s needlepoint,
so many green
slashes of hope.

The earth woke me
this morning bucking
feelograms from deep
within its crust.
The window sashes
that I wiped
clean of cobwebs
yesterday rattled in
percussive approval.

Earthquake, felt
so rarely in the Midwest.
In bed, I lay shaking--
a fledgling in wind--
awash in both terror
and joy--anticipating
that the ground will be
solid and still beneath me.

Bio: Doris Lynch has work recently in the Tipton Poetry Review, the Atlanta Review, Frogpond, Haibun Today, and Contemporary Haibun Online. The Indiana Arts Commission awarded her three individual artist’s grants: two in poetry and one in fiction.