Kersten Christianson – Two Poems

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“Bottles from the Titanic survived at sea for over a century.”

You think it would be easy
to compose a message for a bottle,
but there are so many considerations,
maybe more than actual destinations.

First, a decision regarding paper:
Parchment, college ruled,
the back of a used envelope,
like one that enveloped love,
like a letter, or an electric bill.

Then, typed or handwritten,
so many stylistic decisions on the table:
Print, cursive, calligraphy, maybe D’Nealian,
that wild mix of straight and loopy,
a blend of head and heart.

You could write to your lost,
berate him for leaving you home,
plead for his return, though you know
the odds are not good and he never
could read your chicken scratch.
And it feels like he’s been gone
for a hundred years.

Or you could write to your hopeful, this one,
or that, wonder how a letter rolled tightly
into the channel neck of a blue glass bottle
corked with a stopper can possibly bob
prevailing currents, be ensnared by wind
and drift to channel, north to Lynn Canal
or as far away south as a river, like the Umatilla.

 

Life Force Energy

Steady as the stars in the woods
So happy-hearted
And the warmth rang true inside these bones -Ben Howard, “Old Pine”

You know the meme:
Christopher Walken
demands more cowbell
for the heart chakra.
You throw down tarot,

smoke weed in the woods
with Skagway writer friends.
Lindsey Reiki reads
your energy, surmises
without surprise,

that your ticker resides
in an anchored stone;
your throat chakra, blocked.
She instructs you to speak
your truths. And when

it comes time, you toe dip
that heavy muscle,
in warm shallows, walk
it through the spit, gurgle,
of a two-stepping river,

carry it until its tongue
wags words, speaks for itself.
There, the moon, Jupiter alongside,
stars above, you find your laughter
again; you find your way back.

 

Bio

Alaskan Poet, Moon Gazer, Raven Watcher, Way-Finder, Northern Trekker, Teacher.  Kersten Christianson derives inspiration from wild places, wandering ambles.  Hers is the task of gathering words from wind and finding a path.  Curating the House of Nostalgia (Sheila-Na-Gig Editions, 2020).

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