Two Poems By Polly Giantonio

The Lake and the Loon 

his tremolo echoes through lake and skies
piercing the soil of night
the loon with onyx head and ruby eyes

a sojourner like a butterfly
he moves in pageantry through summer’s light
his wail soars through waters and skies

while pines display snow's white disguise 
the warmth called him on a southbound flight
loon with onyx head and ruby eyes

geared to paddle I suddenly rise 
to a yodel of mournful fright
his tremolo cascades through lake and skies

waters swell in anxious reply
his velvet feathers are gone from sight
the loon with onyx head and ruby eyes

it is I, now, who mourns in waves and cries
his body limp and withered by blight
while still his tremolo haunts body and skies
my loon with onyx head and ruby eyes

Mom

Three tiers of purple-blue violets colored your hall
near a geranium whose gnarly stems grew tall
its velvety leaves like hands held domes of red 
they bent, bowed and bled
in silence witnessed your fall

I wrapped your shoulders to mute the chill
and plumped your body with a woven shawl
prayed you'd hear my song while you slept
silent as a rose

through the hospice-room window you stared and saw
Dad in his Navy whites standing tall
as if he had waited years to confess
an unknown sorrow tight in his chest
maybe a mirage the near-dead draw
when silent as a rose

Polly Giantonio’s poems and work have appeared in various journals, including an interview published in Poets & Writers. She resides in rural Vermont, USA.