April Poetry: B. Sadie Bailey

In recognition of Poetry Month, and to celebrate and highlight our treasure trove of Orcas Island poets, Orcas Issues is pleased and honored to again offer daily poetry during April.

Weeding

— by B. Sadie Bailey —

Weeds pull easily
between winter rains
so many
moist purple worms unearthed
exposed
to the sharp eyes of merciless birds

Worms uprooted by a weeder’s work
come up together
wrapped around each other
like friendship braids
in grandmother quilts.

I sorrow to cause their parting;
a blundering giant
stomping and tearing
through realms
of small quiet beings.

Hurried hands scramble,
gather and bury the cold
victims of forced exile,
helpless and alone, limp or knotted
in fear, maybe grief.

Will they find each other
again?
Is a worm-length apart
too far?

After a Phone Call with a Faraway Friend During a Blizzard

— by B. Sadie Bailey —

wind swirls flakes in all directions at once
ear still warm from phone imprint
laughing with you
while wanting to eat whole planets
inhale entire universes

i want to fling myself into the wild wide embrace
of this Beloved Earth
wholeheartedly
like a dog nosing joy into the snow

Quilters

— by B. Sadie Bailey —

Strips, squares stitched,
straight or crazy
each scrap a word, a life, a song,
memories of those long gone,
a prayer pieced,
pierced, made strong
by threads that bind.
Each stitch means thanks or please;
love in rhythm with needle and thread.

Those before us passed stories, fabrics;
they knew all lives are intertwined.
They gave their hands,
patched wounds; sewed secret codes
for ways to go
in colors, symbols, signs.
Stitches can still
turn scars to embroidered stars.
Flying geese still say, “this way.”

Like gardens,
patches grow into quilts,
warm the needy, wrap up the dispossessed,
comfort the ill and lonely,
cradle weary heads.
Color and care, dark and light
mingle, reweave dropped threads
of unraveled lives
into a tapestry of All.