Barbara Link- Two Poems

                 Tuolomne Meadows                                              
    
                  So it begins
                  at the night camp,
                  the stars open the universe—
                  pine trees point the way,
                  the dark drapes blue taffeta,
                  we sleep on the earth,
                  above the sky turns
                  like a planetarium ceiling,
                  I hang on for the ride,
                  the air lifts my fingers,
                  no space between my skin and the sky,
                  my bones full of amber light
                  I leave the earth,
                  touch the green fire
                  of the northern lights.

                 Light’s Companions 

                                                                 

                  Life is not a hoax,

                  my fingernails grow,

                  your eyes are Mayan ruins

                  overgrown with green vines,

                  we breathe each other’s air,

                  Brut, Giorgio and garlic,

                  our noses touch, our mouths search

                  dark air for each other,

                  we blend our edges together,

                  separate with a soundless sigh,

                  a part of each other’s light.

Bio: Award-winning California author and poet, Barbara Link, has had three stories aired on KVPR, a National Public Radio Affiliate. Her poetry and fiction  have appeared in numerous literary magazines and small presses. She also received the Sacramento State University Bazzanella Prize for fiction. Her memoir, Blue Shy was published in 2010 and awarded first prize in the Sacramento Friends of the Library First Chapter contest.

Partial list of publications. American River Review, Poetry Now, Earth’s Daughters, Mindprint Review, Anima, Whitefish Review, Missouri Review, Women’s Compendium, Hardpan