Poetry

The following is a selection of poems by: Elizabeth Hayes Christopher...






I came as an eggshell,
will leave as a salamander.
We are primal results
perpetuating time,
broken and healed
to be broken and healed.



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Naked

I bathe
in reflections of new memories
old mornings travel in suitcases
still wet canvases
multiple

today forgot to be a song

I mend
as evening dries across the sky

I am.



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Sea-glass memory,
scratch-polished pulled,
into tidal doubt.

Which weighs more,
recollection or wish?

Field of wild
anxious heart,
I am early flowers
caught in an ocean wind.

“Sink deep into the waves.
Shore is bottom.”

Rebirth sleeps in fragile eggs,
coral cradled,
fathoms down.
Stiff feathered wings
desire the sky.

I trust
refraction.



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We hold hands
for the first time

a galaxy forms

tremor of connection
breaks through
hesitation

past hurt walls glitter
and dissolve
into the earth of our trust

we are possibility and destiny
stepping into the blue heart
we've painted.



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Year of unbroken howl
earth streams mud story
splitting fury rush
love breech-birthed and running from
self from inside-out-self

quiet talons clench dead ankles
handfuls of tide
mother-of-pearl in seaweed

"Do roots have bark?"

dirt protects death
I dig to swim.



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Soft light eyes
in a room of hope

“love is wings”

deep to knees in sugar
open book to be

behind a cloud opaque February
heaps remembering
loose change through worn pockets

holes
recall the line

"pennies appear in ones"

re-see me.



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"Missing Mother"

Raven feather
photograph
soul stretched to a field
it does not know
cannot forget

fallen trees releasing words
too small fish

full moon wildflower
broken etching cloud cover
poems speaking purple taunts
self-paintings
wish

I am tear trails
today that was tomorrow
fresh rain
thinking of your gold slippers
in Santa Fe

you are home.



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Spinning alone in flat light,
lines bleed across ice.
"Have an apple darling."
Evening sun comes in an envelope.
Pearly wool upon a lap,
she speaks words like her mommy does.
Raisins cling, pools of milk.
Cinnamon steam.
Pulse, pound against the breastbone.



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I go to bed cold.
Night-sweat dreams,
black ribonned hat,
Chanticlare.
I crave chocolate coins.
In your words:
"the hammock's bend
fits one body."



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Bird cupped in palm
waking the truth before burial

non-word

embedded in trembling walls
I am ocean
ear to a conch shell.



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Blue you spoke to me
thoughts harvested dirt and seeds
swallowed whole
sipped to gulps
clouds a storm the leaves turned pale
backs to warn land-made sea
wild dark the sky held hands
all breath halted.



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I dreamed a pearl kissed an oyster
as the sea gasped for air,
beat the shell to cracks then sand.
The foam, the swells, took it far,
they took it, took it,
till a child gulped the curve.
Her swallowed glowed,
the salt-wet orb
slid the throat,
a mollusk's core.




(All writings on this web site page are © Elizabeth Hayes Christopher)

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