Swollen river,
a boulder’s hollow thud –
all night long
Author: Rosemary J. Gwaltney
Rosemary Gwaltney (mountainrecluse at yahoo.com):
I'm the mother of a large and wonderful family, now mostly grown. Most of our children are adopted, and have disabilities. Also I’m a 15 year veteran home school teacher. My husband and I, with only four children still at home, live high in the northern mountains of Idaho. I write haiku, assorted other poetry, and am working on a book.
My poetry has been published, or will soon be published, in Acorn, The Heron’s Nest, Short Stuff, The Fairfield Review, and a book called The ABC’s of Grief.
No blossoms this spring
old cherry tree stark and bare
where she used to play
Scarlet and sodden
beneath melting spring snow –
her Christmas mitten
Up the cherry tree –
her wheelchair’s shadow
climbs slowly
Old house for sale –
in the sidewalk cement,
mother’s handprint