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Ekphrastic Poems

Image by Olia Gozha

Summer
After Phoebe Wahl’s painting “Summer”

By Karen Quickley

It’s August and

Somewhere there

Are sunflowers

Smiling back

At the sun.

 

You’re as tall as

The ones here.

They are becoming,

and you bring out

Their natural beauty

In return.

 

Somewhere someone

Has cancer today.

But look at our

Toddler son reaching out

To touch these petals.

 

I’m very happy in this

Quaint sun hat. This

Is me in my most

Natural state. My

Face, like the

Sunflowers, was made

For the gloriously

Warm way the sun

Watches us.

 

Our daughter’s

Showing me red

Fruit she’s picked.

She’s grown already

Since the spring.

 

Upright hollyhocks,

Fully grown lettuce,

A proud yellow

Watering can.

 

How I’d love

For summer to

Not escape me.

How I’d love to

Wear my hair in

Braids and clothe

Myself in dresses

Each day.

 

I was meant to be

Soft like this. Let

Me sit here for a

Moment, while the

Sun is the reflection

Of the love in me.

 

My sun is my

Own heart. My

Sun is you

And me.

Image by Cate Brodersen

This is Love
After an image in Phoebe Wahl’s picture book “The Blue House”

By Karen Quickley

Here, you’re with

Me while I’m taking

My bath, a vining

Houseplant overhead.

You’re seated on

The closed toilet

Like it’s a living

Room chair. You’re

Reading to me

From your favorite

Book as I push

This toy boat on

top of the bath water.

It’s winter out there,

But in here we’ve

Got a radiator heater.

Cats are always

Curious about bathtubs.

Never mind that

Dirty laundry. Right

Now I just hear your

Velvet voice, my lower

Body embraced by

warm water. I’m

Glad you are

Perfect for me.

Image by Calwaen Liew

Lullaby
After Phoebe Wahl’s painting “Night Lullaby”

By Karen Quickley

Come to me

Just like this:

Close to midnight,

Puffy glooms of

Night clouds giving

Way to the rich

Black-blue jeweled

Sky behind them.

 

Darkness can take

Me over—I’m fragile

Like that. Kiss me

Like this, please,

In spite of my fractures.

 

I’ve always loved

Red dresses and

This time of night.

I didn’t expect

You or this.

Surprise! There’s a

Man in my moon

Now, man in my

Night.

Image by Thought Catalog

Karen Quickley is an emerging American poet and writer. Her work has been featured in numerous print and online publications. She holds a B.A. in Creative Writing and reads poetry submissions for Parakeet Magazine. She and her two favorite pussycats make their home in northern Indiana. More at karenquickley.net

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