Kit Kennedy


Those Mid-January Pink Camelias Stop Me in My Tracks

I will never forget
my grandmother’s hands
nor her out of left field
wisdom: “Winter straddles
two seasons – the diminished 
and the sensual.  Be vigilant.
Be hopeful.”



Night’s synapses

fire into morning
remembering the wild
conversation between 
Miles & Beethoven
as they finished
each other’s phrases



And Where Are You?

Well, I’m not a bee
but I have to say
pollen is a real draw
although of late
a certain shade 
of lavender pulls me in
can’t hold
back
I slip
into center



only a true friend

believes you
when you say
“I held a sunburst
in my left hand
& then I ate
a slice of toast
with a tad of 
orange marmalade”
or a holy fool



from What’s Never Mentioned at the Dinner Table #1,002

Fall, a colorful graveyard of hands predicting winter. 



There Should Always Be a View

with windows
to frame
conversation
something
to take us
heights
& depths
always
a modest
trace
of red



Margaret Enters the Garden For a Reason

The dead are always up for a chat.
Much to be asked:  Oh, where is that jar
of buttons placed 10 years ago in the basement
in the other house where neither of us remembers
the zip code?  Or how to cope with the local news.
Our much-loved mountain has shifted slightly
to the left. Margaret waits further instructions.
Meanwhile, in yesterday’s dream a bottle of light 
and someone’s keys found in the middle of the road.
What to make of this?  Margaret’s afternoons are scented
with dark chocolate, geraniums, the adage 
from both grandmothers:  there is nothing to whine about
when socks fit the shoes.  

Kit Kennedy lives in Walnut Creek, CA and serves as Poet-in-Residence of SF Bay Times and Resident Poet at Ebenezer Lutheran herchurch. Please visit: https://poetrybites.blogspot.com

 
 

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