“Rick” by Julia Piehler

NEW POETRY

Leaning backwards pressed against the wall
Yellow roses fill my arms
I rarely liked photos of myself
But this candid
Framed by Rick’s camera
Really pleased me from the first

It was a wrench that the
Flowers and the photos
Came from Rick, my parents’ friend
And not my parents

I rode home on the back of his Honda 750
The hot exhaust pipes shiny
My long white graduation dress hiked to my hips
Panels waving in the wind
Leaning with him as he steered
Me through the curves

Julia Piehler authored our two previous poems here, as prelude to the next feature at our main site.

“Otherness” by Julia Piehler

NEW POETRY

Creature from beneath the waves
Made its way through the turbulent ocean surf
To die drowning in the sharp air of our windy shore

The giant Pacific octopus is five feet long
Its skin is white and its huge eyes blue
I feel desperate to save it
But when I circle it in my arms to carry it to the water
Its proper milieu in life
I find a mortal wound on its underside
Blood not red, but blue, leaks quietly

Do its three hearts throb with love and fear of death?
How do I comfort it in its departing moments
When it is so foreign and its habits solitary?

Ten days before Dave died
Cancer having stripped him
of flesh and height
We stood hugging each other deeply
And I whispered
the volume of my love.
I knew how to comfort him.
In that moment
No otherness divided us.

Julia Piehler authored our previous poem at Fast Pop Lit, “A Rose Dance.” We’ll be presenting one more poem of hers here– as lead in to our next feature at our main site.

“A Rose Dance” by Julia Piehler

NEW POETRY

My roses waltzed in the gusting breeze
Partnered by their shadows created
By the low-angled sun

Unseasonably warm for March
Which has slighted the gardens
of the rain due them

Saturated colors and pungent perfume
A return for the care showered on them
Irrigation I furtively give
Despite the drought

Their cousins the apple trees
Also load the breeze
With offerings of curtains of petals
Curtains tapering like arms of stars
In the Milky Way
Each petal softer than a breath

Do roses recognize the gardener?
Do they know the character
of all the snipping and clipping
while painful brings new growth?
Do we?

Julia Piehler has published in technical journals and compendia during a high-tech career. Her work spanned many job functions. Throughout her career she has collected bouquets of stories that will appeal to the general reader. She was educated at Harvard and Stanford where she specialized in geochemistry.