Zibaldone | Gerry Stewart
POETRY
7/26/20261 min read
A collaged iris between the sheets,
I have not yet outgrown you.
I bury poems in pomegranate seeds,
more bite than juice on the page.
Recalling how I came to be, sneaker toe kicking
in an alley of milkweed and old cars,
I chase tornados in unsent postcards
where the porch swing creaks in the bindings.
Bookshop receipts mark a journey,
stain your cheek with goldenrod dust.
My punk-crazy love notes
kiss and slash in the margins.
The charcoal bridge sketched between us
smudges too easily and allows no way back.
My grief is written stone on stone,
then overwritten with moss ink and new-found love.
Common even extraordinary,
I become a heap of things committed to paper.
Gerry Stewart is a poet, teacher and editor based in Finland. Her poetry collection Post-Holiday Blues was published by Flambard Press, UK. Her poetry is widely published in journals and has appeared as part of Poetry Archive's World View, iamb poetry and on the Eat the Storms poetry podcast. Her writing blog can be found at http://thistlewren.blogspot.fi/ and Instagram @gerrystewartpoet.