Saturday, October 19, 2013

Barbara Link- Three Poems

                        Sometimes at night
                        you hold my hand
                        as my thoughts tumble
                        like tennis shoes in the dryer.
            I know too little about you
too much about me,
I dispel the total darkness
by opening my eyes
gaze at familiar curtains and lamp.
                        Our separate but connected bodies
                        in the same solar system;
                        held by threads
as slight and strong
                        as spider spinnings.

                       East of Modesto                                                       

                        All day long I’ve been connected
                        to the car
                        speeding through green orchards
                        to the piano tinkling on public radio
                        to the earth.

                        My fingers reach for words
                        and soft bright pebbles,
                        you are out there, I know—
                        our lips feel the same wind.

                        Dry Creek                                                                                       

                        It is enough for now,
                        to hear a dove cooing in the rain,
                        to play the piano all morning,
                        to read my history in poems,
                        to hold in my hand like a soap bubble,
                        the fragile structure of loss and gain.
                       Remembering, it was your hands,
                        I loved first and last,
                        hands true and stronger,
                        than candlelight, white tablecloths,
                        than nights on pillows by the fire.

                        And now it is enough to have
                        walked by the dark water,
                        felt your wool coat and the stars,
                        stood together on the bridge,
                        seen the pomegranate in the water,
                        floating toward us, through us, past us,
                        like a bursting red sun.

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, Dead Snakes.


  1. Barb,
    It is wonderful to see more of your excellent work here. I miss you!

  2. I get a twinge in my heart when I read your poems!