Kit Kennedy


A Few Clouds Linger Through the Palms

I remember all too keenly where I am, 
where you are not.  



Daunting List:  What a tree bundles in its lifetime

The obvious:
leaves
branches
bark
roots
lichen
flowers
seeds
pods
nuts 
lemons.

Things
which move:
insects
birds
squirrels
raccoons
the occasional cat
the human hand
carving wind.

Hammock
lanterns
ornaments
tree house
clothesline
swing
nest.

That pesky plastic bag.

From time to time
bits of constellation
and always the sway of time.



[untitled]

Night always remembers the yellow within
                                                        and the taste of cool morning.
                                                                     
                                                                      for Alice Steele



On This Land I Will Print Each of My Poems a Tiny House

from a 3-D printer.
Every house will be
made of concrete.
Each poem will
include a reference
to the moon,
contain at least
one window.
Although space 
limited, two comfy
chairs face each other
at a conversational slant.
I’ll leave
the door
ajar for you.  



The Old Oak Tree

this is how crows see themselves

remove the old oak, where is home?

Kit Kennedy is a queer elder poet and blogger living in Walnut Creek, CA. She serves as Poet in Residence at SF Bay Times and Resident Poet at Ebenezer Lutheran herchurch. Please visit: https://poetrybites.blogspot.com.

 
 

previous page     contents     next page