Issue 15, January/February 1998
Liz Haight - Two Poems

In my tiny kitchen
Turkey organs wait for Grampa on the stove
While Nana skims the fat for perfect gravy
		
Through laughter hear Arlo in a distant room
Sing Alice's Restaurant
While I paint apple red on pale pie crusts

On the other side of steamy windows
Children empty bags of leaves
Behind the barn, where Daddy cannot see

Where blue eyes tint God's sky

The birds are flitting, Uncle Charlie,
For their feeder to be filled
Where New England looms beyond the barn roof
		
Today arms envelop waists for oh, no reason
Children's cheeks are rosy chapped
And grownup cheeks are blush chablis
		 
Let me give thanks.

Frost has brought autumn to brittle stalks of corn
Painted hills silver in morning's light
Sunflowers bend to kiss my child's face
As she's gone off to school in starch and pleats

This morning I drove toward the east breakfast sun
And stopped at the place in the country for eggs
Everyone should take their morning paper
To the nearest breakfast counter alone, just once

Across the road I bought pommes de terre at Moses' farm
Where Grandma warmed her arthritic hands
She would have painted me primitive, selling apples
Or gleaning under a cloudy sky

Day catches me whispering to myself and making peace
Roasting sunflower seeds, grating cinnamon
Scanning classifieds and rolling pennies
This is the promised land, I am meek

Night is tucking children in flannel prayer.