POETRY

Trailhead I came to the trailhead intending only to snowshoe. All night snow had fallen and wind had blown around and between the old spruce and ash that line the trail, as if an aisle up to the altar of a chapel you open a heavy door to, intending only a glance, not to kneel and pray for anything or for anyone. I stood a long, cold while looking down that trail to where in fall, leafed out in aspen and birch, it flattens into prairie, a hill in heat-hazed distance, high grass, an oval of light: a place to pause, catch your breath, not intending to drop knee deep in snow for everything, for everyone. -- Chet Corey     Bloomington, Minn.

Untitled Sandhill cranes squawking bold sunrise salutations while flying in sync -- Kathleen Wardach     Edgewater, N.J.   In My Garden I sit in the sunlight -- It is too bright for me to sleep in its warmth. The chair gently holds me and the street noise is far away. Even so, I would sleep ... a poem comes -- one that does not fathom my need for rest. It is also too bright and in its warmth I shut my eyes pulling a shawl of light tightly around me. -- Sr. Lou Ella Hickman     Corpus Christi, Texas

Note to poets: Short lines preferred. Poetry is published in a newspaper column only 35 characters wide, counting punctuation and spaces. Submit poems to Poetry, NCR, PO Box 411009, Kansas City, MO 64141-1009, or e-mail at poetry@ncronline.org.

National Catholic Reporter, February 8, 2008