“The moon is friend for the lonesome to talk to.”―Carl Sandburg
Laurie Higi lives and writes on a chicken farm in South Whitley, Indiana. She has a Bachelor of Arts in English Writing from Indiana University-Purdue University, Fort Wayne. Her chapbook, The Universe of Beaver Lake, was published by Finishing Line Press. Her poetry has appeared in The Dandelion Review, Confluence Literary Magazine, Surreal Beauty Magazine, and Bohemia Art Magazine. She has also published work in Reality Serum Magazine and Landlocked Lyres Literary Magazine. She enjoys being surrounded by flowers, clouds, and stars with her family, on their farm.
Laurie joins us remotely via Zoom.
Welcome to the Poets Weave. I'm Romayne Rubinas Dorsey. Laurie, what poems have you brought for us?
You, moon!
I can’t keep up with you inconsistent orb
More soft spoken than the sun more
mystic than his daily light.
He is boring apart from a breathtaking rising or setting.
He is usual expected in East mornings
farewell in West swallowing horizon.
You, moon! Brandishing your magnificent orange
dress tonight. Tomorrow far white cratered.
You always aiding hunters wolf worm blue pink moon.
Super moon!
As a child, I had a dream that I received my large blue eye as a gift
when I was born under a full you.
Last week your crescent was magnified hanging
thumbnail clipping pretending to be thin.
But on that clear country night star spotlights
pointed out the dark side of you hiding behind my shadow last glimmer
before next new night darkness.
You! Waxing waning pulling
the oceans to your whim. Controlling tides
reproductive organs mental health the powers of werewolves and witches.
And me thinking that you are mine
when so obviously I am yours.
A Little Less Gravity
With a planet for company
I pirouette with the early morning breeze.
Venus, hanging in the East with my family
while I am out here on my own with four kids.
Did you see the pink super moon Tuesday?
I imagine that she took away
from your glory that day.
She’s so moody. Best
to just dim a little when she’s glowing so.
I am guessing that many of us are feeling
your kind of lonely right now. Trapped
so far away from the touch of others.
On our own islands of blackness,
virus home shelters.
Fearing an invisible enemy.
How do you do it?
Maybe we all need a little less gravity.
A little more space home orbit.
Or maybe just some sleep.
This Constellation Life
I don’t want to belong to the sky,
with it’s intoxicating lights.
The Earth should suffice.
If I keep my eye on the ground,
my foot on the road,
existence should put this crazy stargazing to rest
and I can end this constellation life.
The past, like this star shine,
millions of years ago,
should not affect me
like the Milky Way
eroding my mind into a river, absorbed
into my subconscious.
I am constantly thinking of the Big Dipper,
Orion, Sagittarius, Virgo.
If could just ponder the gravel, dirt, pavement,
my concentration could be correctly placed.
My time with the stars has ended.
I will bathe in the Earth’s more stable elements
that I can caress with my finger.
Chasing Venus
Daybreak,
And we drive East.
Rose sunrise tickling the horizon
fading up into lemonade
and cotton candy sky.
She,
sitting next to me,
an extension of me,
following the colors of dawn up
until she discovers the last star
bright in the rising light.
That Eastern beacon, drawing us close.
Closer to morning,
closer to school and the long day looming.
Venus,
clean, celestial light.
Comforting her in a way that I never can.
She makes sure that, although I turn,
this planet never leaves her sight.
Quietly, with time, I see her blue-grey eye fixed,
chasing Venus,
with fresh longing.
Her body melts into the car seat.
Focused, on a dream, her hope for the day.
Reassured as she holds this bright, cheerful orb
with her persistent gaze
until we get to school.
She is controlling something gigantic.
She is tidal, pull of the moon.
You've been listening to poems by Laurie Higi on the Poets Weave. I'm Romayne Rubinas Dorsey.
