Setting the bristles aflame

Poetry might be defined as the clear expression of mixed feelings.
~W.H. Auden

I give thanks to Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer for letting me share her poems today. Rosemerry has a blog called A Hundred Falling Veils where she posts a daily poem. You can sign up to have them emailed to you!

photo by Rosmarie Voegtli

Ode to the Onion I Didn’t Have Tonight
by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

And there you were not
on the shelf with your shiny red skin,
and there you were not in the pan
in thin pink rings filling the air,
and there you were not
in the sauce, that warm underlayer
that grounds the bright tomato—
all night I missed you.
All night, the red wine kept asking,
Where is it? Where is it?
All night, I thought of how
what is missing is sometimes
most here.

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Years Later, I Remember What He Taught Us
by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

The guide stabbed the small round of cactus with his knife,
then held it up in front of him. With his other hand,
he flicked on his lighter and burned off the spines.
I do not remember the smell of it, nor how much it smoked.
What I remember is how he was left with a smooth and harmless
lump of green in his palm. He sliced it opened and taught us to drink.
It could save you, he said, if you find yourself lost in the desert.
Do this. Burn off your spines. Whatever bristles you have grown
to protect yourself, set them aflame. Open however you can,
let me pull you to my lips. I will do the same for you.
We are all lost in the desert.

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one dropper of red
turns the whole bowl red—
why I share love poems

~Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

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Want to read more? Here are Things to Do While Trapped in a Cage with a Lion and My Nine-Year-Old Daughter Reads Emily Dickinson

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Nix the Comfort Zone has the Poetry Friday round-up. Thanks, Molly!