Two poems by Laurie Kuntz
with ease, skimming over sun streaked rocks
that match the bows in her braided hair,
the streamers whisper at upturned handlebars,
and her red laces flap against white trimmed pedals.
Not so long ago, someone taught her,
held the back seat while running alongside,
spoke of stability and rhythm
in a voice that conquered all fears.
That sturdy weight of trust cradled in one hand
buoyed all to balance when it lifted
like a feathered wing off the shore
and let her glide into the only life
she would ever know to choose.
A Memory Disguised as a Poem
able to trace all the constellations
and the day bright mountains,
the ones we hiked alongside sherpas and mules
carrying wood and hay–
the essentials for keeping warm.
The pueblos with heavy engraved
wooden doors, always ajar–
candomble, capoeira, samba,
and the Nebuta Matsuri.
We thrived in uncommon terrains,
even under the wrath
of Pinatubo and Fukashima.
Our survival, paramount against the forces,
keeping us rooted in throes of the unique,
but , the most usual event–
having you, our son,
brought us home.
Laurie Kuntz is a widely published and award winning poet. She has been nominated for a Pushcart and Best of the Net prize. She has published two poetry collections (The Moon Over My Mother’s House, Finishing Line Press, Somewhere in the Telling, Mellen Press), two chapbooks (Simple Gestures, Texas Review, Women at the Onsen, Blue Light Press). Her fifth poetry collection, Talking Me off the Roof, is forthcoming from Kelsay Press in late 2022. Many of her poems are a direct result of working with refugees in refugee camps soon after the Vietnam War years. Recently retired, she lives in an endless summer state of mind.