fate

Love Seat

Claudia McGill 6 Comments

Love Seat

It was a cosmic step
that first one
I’m older and wiser now
and I’d still take it
today. Every time.
That should tell you
something about
the etude I’m still listening to
remembering
the steps to the dance
the cavort the sidle
the ante up always
for a seat on the aisle
but instead that day
I edit myself
go window
to look out at the trees
I think
and next stop
you appear on stage
curve around the fare box
beeline tenth row
take that aisle seat
next to me.
The sun
sure was shining
on that bus that day
and on the trees
and on us. On everything and
especially
on the step
that began the yet to come.
Every time I think about
how nearly I missed meeting you
I remind myself
I didn’t.

3/14/19

It Was Always Going to Happen This Way

Claudia McGill 10 Comments

From Rearrange, 2018.

It Was Always Going to Happen This Way

the destructive eye contact
you made with the guy in the white car
trying to poke his nose into traffic
coming out of the convenience store parking lot
you being in the lane already and in a big hurry
you said
no
he said yes
you said no
he didn’t want to wait his turn
you could see it in his eyes
he didn’t want to wait his turn
you said no I won’t
let you slide into the lane
he said
yes you will
let me slide into the lane

side panel (yours)
headlight (his)
the result

12/21/17

Turn and Return

Claudia McGill 5 Comments

From Redirection, 2017.

Turn and Return

Black stones
meant for lying on the silty bottom of the river
shiny skins glossed up and wavery in the current
thwarted
by a fate that chose them
through its instrument
that betrayer
that life giver
the river
washing them on to the sandbar
in a fit of thunderstorm.

Water spirits in disguise
black stones are
sunburned dull
drained
but patient:
another storm will come.
That betrayer
that life giver.
Petition fate
and
Be ready.

9/21/17

Uneasy in My Mind

Claudia McGill 5 Comments

From the collection Spring Cleaning, 2015.

Uneasy in My Mind

Can anyone tell me
what is that occasional creaking sound,
the loud harsh one
almost like the voice of a duck in the creek over there
but not exactly –
The sound that startles me every so often
as I sit on this bench in the park
And
does it mean
I should move from under this tree?

clay tree with outstretched arms 7-14

Clay tree
July 2014

 

In Short

Claudia McGill 3 Comments

From Spring Cleaning, published in 2015.

In Short

I thought I’d landed on
level circumstances but I have since found
I am wrong. Look at what has happened
to me in the last couple of weeks here and
you will agree. Everyone is fooled for a time and then we all
find out the truth. Looking around for the
basic model of clear-cut uncomplicated
is time-consuming and exhausting
not to mention ineffective and that is what
you finally conclude and that is when
it all levels out on you
after all.

Hand of Fate

“Hand of Fate”

 

Verdict

Claudia McGill 9 Comments

From Look Winter in the Face, 2015.

Verdict

Dig up the pink rosebush that won’t bloom
because of the fungus that won’t go away
No matter how many summers we wait
it will not change it will not bloom
The tiny pink buds will turn
black and then brown-dry
then papery-beige
and peel
in one day.
I have seen it.
The thorns are all this bush has left
and it is not enough.

Red Roses small

“Red Roses”, fabric wall hanging, 1999.

Not My Fault

Claudia McGill 5 Comments

A Twenty Minutes poem.

Not My Fault But

If only squirrels wouldn’t run out in front of cars
I would not have had to swerve
to avoid the remains
of this particular one
and therefore hit the pothole
that I did hit
and do something bad to my tire
and then need a tow truck
a big bill for the rescue of my car
and its subsequent repairs
which I could only blame
on the thoughtlessness of that squirrel
that I didn’t even hit myself.

"Hand of Fate" - mixed media

“Hand of Fate” – mixed media

Secrets Hurt

Claudia McGill 1 Comment

Another collage poem.

The River Took Me

I hardly understand It myself,
You see, it seemed to me my fault.
Nobody’s said so The silence whispered.
Nobody would know What made you
There is no need to mention it
and it seems to me
I won’t How could I
I shouldn’t resist
need to need to Speak up
it is fate.

"The River Took Me" on its page in my collage poetry book.

“The River Took Me” on its page in my collage poetry book.