by Geraldine Connolly

Find the red flower
and the hummingbird hovering.
Find the bee
inside the tiger-colored blossom.
Don’t close your eyes.
Find the berry below the leaf.

Find the stacked stone wall
and the tremor inside the wall
and all of the tiny insects
who thrive there.
Find the stray seed
that turned into a melon,
the vole burrowed beneath
a mass of sun trumpets.

Beauty happens all around us.
If you find the owl
perched on the branch
listen and wait.
And if you hear the leaf speak,
don’t move.

Soon the coyote will howl
down from the mountain
and the flower will greet you,
its face on fire.

______________________________________________________________

Geraldine Connolly is the author of four poetry collections: She received two N.E.A. creative writing fellowships, a Maryland Arts Council fellowship, and the W.B. Yeats Society of New York Poetry Prize. Her work has appeared in POETRY, The Georgia Review, and Shenandoah. It has been featured on The Writers Almanac and anthologized in Poetry 180 and The Sonoran Desert: A Literary Field Guide. She lives in Tucson, Arizona. Her website is geraldineconnolly.com.

by Geraldine Connolly

—after Neruda

I walk into the kitchen stores empty of desire
for Dutch ovens, silicon mats, tart pans.
In the grocery stores and farm markets
I am cold and still as an iceberg.

Recipes bore me. Bathtub rings disgust me.
The smell of bakeries brings me to tears.
I want no more dust rags or oven cleaners,
no more spray starch or furniture polish.

I want to swim in the cool lake of indifference.
That’s why the days unroll like heavy carpets
covered in dust and dog hair, bearing
discarded seeds and crumbs,
the lost nickels and pennies.

I only want to slip
like a grain of sand into the ocean.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

Geraldine Connolly is a native of western Pennsylvania and the author of four poetry collections: Food for the Winter (Purdue), Province of Fire (Iris Press) and Hand of the Wind (Iris Press), Aileron (Terrapin Books). She is the recipient of two N.E.A. creative writing fellowships in poetry, a Maryland Arts Council fellowship, and the W.B. Yeats Society of New York Poetry Prize. She was the Margaret Bridgman Fellow at the Bread Loaf Writers Conference and has had residencies at Yaddo, the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts and The Chautauqua Institute. Her work has appeared in Poetry, The Georgia Review, Cortland Review and Shenandoah. It has been featured on The Writers Almanac and anthologized in Poetry 180: A Poem a Day for American High School Students, Sweeping Beauty: Poems About Housework and The Sonoran Desert:A Literary Field Guide. She lives in Tucson, Arizona. Her website is http: www.geraldineconnolly.com

by Geraldine Connolly

she listened in the hall
seldom crossed thresholds

baked dark cakes
with spirit-soaked raisins

dug with a trowel
at the edge of deep woods

dropped to her knees
to examine a caterpillar

rinsed windows with vinegar

while inside 
intrigue twirled and spun

she loved
interruptions

which nothing could silence
or calm or cool

___________________________________________________________________

Geraldine Connolly is the author of a chapbook and four poetry collections including the recently published Aileron (Terrapin Books). Her work has appeared in in Poetry, Shenandoah, The Gettysburg Review and The Cortland Review. She has taught at the Writers Center in Bethesda, Maryland, The Chautauqua Institution and the University of Arizona Poetry Center. She has received fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts, the Maryland Arts Council and the Cafritz Foundation. Her work has appeared in many anthologies including Poetry 180: A Poem A Day for High School Students and A Constellation of Kisses. She lives in Tucson, Arizona. www.geraldineconnolly.com

by Geraldine Connolly

she listened in the hall
seldom crossed thresholds

baked dark cakes
with spirit-soaked raisins

dug with a trowel
at the edge of deep woods

dropped to her knees
to examine a caterpillar

rinsed windows with vinegar

while inside
intrigue twirled and spun

she loved
interruptions

which nothing could silence
or calm or cool

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Geraldine Connolly is the author of a chapbook and four poetry collections including the recently published Aileron (Terrapin Books). Her work has appeared in Poetry, Shenandoah, The Gettysburg Review, and The Cortland Review, as well as many anthologies including Poetry 180: A Poem A Day for High School Students and A Constellation of Kisses. She has taught at the Writers Center in Bethesda, Maryland, The Chautauqua Institution and the University of Arizona Poetry Center. She has received fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts, the Maryland Arts Council and the Cafritz Foundation. See www.geraldineconnolly.com.