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Linda M Crate
3
poems

images:

"drawing, lemons and lemon blossoms in a basket,

18th century" - artist unknown

"the practical hotel steward" - John Tellman

above Public Domain

"photo of welded wire frame sculpture of dog,

implying the energy, life force or aura surrounding

the animal" - Donna Fleming

above Creative Commons

Linda M Crate is a Pennsylvanian native born in Pittsburgh yet raised in the rural town of Conneautville. Her poetry, short stories, articles, and reviews have been published in a myriad of magazines both online and in print. She has five published chapbooks A Mermaid Crashing Into Dawn (Fowlpox Press - June 2013), Less Than A Man (The Camel Saloon - January 2014), If Tomorrow Never Comes (Scars Publications, August 2016), My Wings Were Made to Fly (Flutter Press, September 2017), and splintered with terror (Scars Publications, January 2018), and one micro-chapbook Heaven Instead (Origami Poems Project, May 2018).

 

Links:

https://twitter.com/thysilverdoe

https://www.instagram.com/authorlindamcrate/

https://www.facebook.com/Linda-M-Crate-129813357119547/

of lemons & moons

the moon

sips

on my lips

leaves a lingering kiss

of silver

upon my flesh

and an endless love

of the sea

he is my father

loving and unloving—

the moon

falls upon my hair

as i'm sleeping

reminding me no matter

my age

i am always

his child

as much as i hate that idea

being a grown woman

and life waggles a finger at me

causing me some childish

slight of tongue or deed

i can only laugh

sometimes life's lemons are

wake up calls—

sometimes a lemon goes in the water

and sometimes the water goes in the lemon

 
 
 
 
 
 
a wildness that never sleeps

 

the dog

was calmed

by my presence

 

i have that aura

i've noticed

 

but when my mind is

as a wave

none seem capable of calming me

 

i have to retreat to myself

 

ground my wings lest they fly into the sun

 

and i become a second-hand

icarus in a world that doesn't want

wax wings—

 

sometimes music, sometimes books

other times nature

 

 

only these things seem capable of offering me

the calm i ask for when the

match of my ailment is struck—

 

i calm others

as part of me is always in the hearth of the storm

 

a wildness in me that never sleeps

no matter how many times

i try to put it to bed

even i have limits

 

you appeared out of nowhere

"is there really no coffee, hello?"

yes, this place is hell

because of people like you

always insisting that their wants

or needs

are greater than everything needing done

in this store which gives far too few employees

too many tasks to accomplish in eight hours—

"hello?" you snarl again

as i've already left my post to help you

"is there really no coffee?"

you demand—

i check the coffee pot

realizing that we're out of coffee

and i apologize for the inconvenience as i make fresh

whilst you make some snarky comment about

that being "my job" like we don't have anything else to do

on a night where we're understaffed

i killed you with kindness

and you apologized

telling me you felt terrible because i'm a really nice person

probably the only thing that kept my anger from

biting you—

low wage workers

shouldn't be your punching bags

we're only trying to get our jobs accomplished

as best we can whilst waiting upon

customer after customer

i try to be a good, kind person but

even i have my limits—

sometimes my patience doesn’t shine through

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