When you’re considering the past, a poem can make you sigh…

There’s dirt under your fingernails. You’re clawing the soil unearthing the strangest things. A long bone. A carved button. A miraculous medal. 

And that’s just scratching the surface. 

With the 2017 August Post Card Poetry Festival concluded, I’m nostalgic for last year’s work. Here are 2016’s poems and their post cards… consider it an August in review. If you missed this year’s fest and would like a postcard, let me know. I’ll send one and it doesn’t even need to be August… 

Let the past fade

you’re only missing

who you wanted her to be

and you can find that 

in the next one 

and the next

So let her exit

stage left

one hand on her suitcase

the other waving goodbye.

 

 


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