The
Poetry Of Becky Sakellariou
Somewhere
in New Hampshire
The blue heron standing stone
still on the top
of a gray ringed rock, a gang
of tiny green frogs
murmuring like women
in bath houses,
a lone butterfly sweeping
through tall stalks of grass,
they do not hear my heart
nor see my shadow.
None of this
is for me,
and turning
to go, I see
a very old man
standing at the end
of the sloping
gray pier, wishing
he were young again--
sand down
the rougher boards, saw
and set new logs
for pilings, repair
the unhinged
ladder and once
again stand back
to admire his love
of bringing order
to the wild.
top
Departure
The leaves, outrageously
red, have begun
to fall, thunder
cracks across
the pond. My mouth
opens to remember
the taste of
autumn, come
early. The same
day a man noticed
a death
in the family
and took off
his shirt, opening
my heart
with his breath,
placing his ear
to my grief.
When I left,
the wind
had risen just
enough to catch
my face
in each red leaf.
top
Becky Dennison Sakellariou was
born and raised in New England and has lived all her adult life
in Greece. A teacher and mediator/counselor, she has recently
published in White Pelican Review, Beloit Poetry Journal and
Common Ground Review. Nominated for the Pushcart Poetry Prize
twice, she also won first prize in the 2005 Blue Light Press
Chapbook Contest for her chapbook, The Importance of Bone. At
present she is madly in love with her three grandchildren and
is often found puttering with great delight on her one acre on
the island of Euboia where olive, fig, almond, pomegranate, lemon,
apricot and eucalyptus trees grow amongst the wild sage, oregano,
rosemary and thyme, endlessly astonishing and inspiring her.
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