Once

Once,
when we were lovers,
the world stopped
in that moment
when we found
the lost kitten,
just a few weeks old.
We held it together,
our faces touched
as we came in close
to the wonder.
Our breaths
sucked in the same air
as we passed
the softness between our hands
so light and warm.

It squirmed and squealed,
a short distance away,
the mother beckoned.

The world started up
again.

Here's my bio for my poetry reading on Tuesday, April 29 7:00 pm Lyon Bookstore.
Feel free to share this;)

Lisa Anina Berman, M.A, earned her master's degree in English, Creative Writing, as a single mother in her 40s. She has been published in several publications and won 2nd place in the 2013 Chico News & Review Poetry 99 contest . SaltWild is her first book of poetry. It is a collection of lyrical and narrative poetry that follows a path of loss, recovery and redemption. She has begun writing a second book called WetWings

Poetry reading at Lyon Bookstore.
Tuesday April 29, 2014 7:00 p.m.
Bring your friends and family:)
I'd love to see you!

Orange Slices

One morning, while peeling an orange,
I offered my son a slice. He just looked
at me and said, "I get it, you know,
why you left Dad."

He was 5 when I left his father
6 years ago and no reason I gave was good
enough, in his mind, for me
to break up the family.

Our cat, Blue, walked up
and plopped down in front of us.

We stared at him for a long time.
Finally, my son said, "I guess
what I'm saying is, I don't understand
it, but I get it."

I smiled deep into the mist
and offered him the orange slice
again.
He took it.

That night, in bed, I pulled
the covers up close, to my face,
and breathed deep.

I caught a faint scent
of oranges on my fingers.

Santa Cruz

Santa Cruz

Memories--

temporary imprints of ourselves

lost and found in the sand.

Whirling seagulls,

squealing children,

doped in the moment

by the calm of your hand.

At the water,

the waves drew us out--

bubbles forming a heart,

popping in the sand.

At low tide,

awed by its stench

a dead sea lion

drew us in,

to us.

Mother and sons,

making footprints and memories

Minus one.

Poetry Reading

Mark your calendars! I will be reading from my book of poetry, "SaltWild" at Lyon Bookstore on Tuesday, April 29th. from 7:00-8:00. Hope to see you there!

Sherry

Sherry

In memory
 
 
You drove alone
east
into the fading line.

There are only

so many roads
on our map
 

and you drove

the only
one you hadn’t tried.
 

Along the way,

you pushed the pedal hard

then harder.

Needing to get there

fast,
first.

When you ran out of gas,
you slowed
to a stop

and walked into the wilderness.
Your shadows grew
in the moonlight.

Specks in the Sunlight

She watches a speck
dance in the sunlight

and slips into childhood,
a child.

Her aged hands reach
for the sparkle.

It slips away
before she can touch it.

She reaches for another.