Turning Point

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Sample Poems by Katrin Talbot

Gild

Where I’m staying,
you can’t see the neighbours,
just the mountains and
the distant sparkling of
a city below in the evenings

Here, expansive solitude,
song of high desert finches,
ravens ripping through
the soundscape,
a gentle breeze cooling
you in the shade

So where do you put
the surprise of a
whinny next door?
Just one simple
declaration of
corporeality

After the startle,
this equine delineation,
worthy of
a gilded frame



Diva

She had the million-dollar voice
with a personality that
poisoned her potential

She’d sung with Glenn Gould
Oh yes, Glenn—he was such a nice boy

She taught, professor of voice,
studied breathing, watching
animals’ chests rise and fall, nostrils flare
A life of in and out,
deep, shallow, the focus of
her teaching

She exhaled hordes of
brilliant, resilient students,
ready to exchange oxygen with
the most expressive carbon dioxide

And in the end, through the gauze of
Alzheimer’s, she told her caretakers

I hope my last breath is
the best one I ever take

remembering Ilona Kombrick




Caught

You didn’t know yet
one could visit you,
so I borrowed its freedom
for you and
slipped it into your hand so
you could hold the glow,
the lit magic of
summer evening—
an elegance of luciferase in
your palm

Firefly



An Afternoon with Jack London

It was simple conversation,
nothing complicated,
all earth-based:
the soil’s well-being,
no discussion of the current
state of American fiction

Just a few words
between Jack and the kingsnake coiled
under the rock marking
Mr. London’s final call
of the wild


Tending

The car,
always pulling to the right

The heart,
towards wanting

Sunflowers,
of course

Ants,
along the scent,
marching

And sorrow;
tend with care
and don’t overwater