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Poetry by Alethea Eason


Taste These Fruits

by Alethea Eason and Donna Kuhn


I remember, remember running,

his cigarette speaking, his robinís smell,

lips, his egg, these fruits, sweet juice stealing tongue


remember, remember him,

donít hands, tongue touching stone,

stealing blue egg,


warm feather, stones on grass,

donít taste body, palms touching crime,

donít, my grass, my blue eyes


donít remember body night,

donít remember green, donít taste fruit


chance lips, warm perfect palms,

another running crime touching him free

committed hand gave without stealing


without nectarine, his warm blue tree and feather,

remember sand, remember apricot



my sweet, taste these fruit



The Hidden Bone


there is a bone in the wilderness

etched with my name

small scratches on the underside

hidden with mud and twigs


the rain has fallen there

in and out of summer


the brilliant summer

has baked it brittle and clean


a fire, a torrent, sweeps

across from fir to pine

but the bone remains, a wrinkle

in the sunlight





The ice age will not begin

until there is a reason.

The glaciers and the rubble

are not headlines yet.


In the green belt

our eyes hold steady as Polaris.

It is warm,

and our deaths only silhouettes

in the running water.


We put our feet

in the cold stream

and think about

the length of summer.


We thirst.

our mouths upon the creek.

We drink and drink.


Winter Rose


I am the rose opening blood red petals

that grip my small furled heart,

layered like laquered nails over the nectar,

hiding from the lips of the sun


the petals hold off the kiss,

but the breath of the blue day

tears open my flowering face,

petal after petal become ruby tongues


my heart wants to find shade with the night,

to hide from the slant of winter's weak sun,

but the rose is a stubborn blossom

and bleeds in the cold dry air




About the Author



I write fiction and poetry for both children and adults. Recent poems have appeared in SONOMA COUNTY WOMENíS VOICES, WILD STARS, an anthology of writing from Art of the Wild, a writing conference at Squaw Valley and FROM PRAYERS TO PROTEST, an anthology published by Pudding House Press. Donna Kuhn has published her poems in over 50 journals including Poetry New York, Red Dirt, Poesy, sprada and unlikely stories. Her poetry has been choreographed by Natica Angillyís Poetry Dance Theater and is incorporated into her own dance, visual art, found sound collage and video.