by Ingrid Keir
Concentric circles. Silver incantations.
The rise of vibrato.
Curves in a world full of angles.
Woman as peach embodied.
Swallow it all whole, femininity.
Practice in shade.
His voice glows.
I collect water from the bowl.
Moon water.
The spells she casts are silver.
The tidal pull ebbs in the body.
Purification. Recognition.
Layers upon layers, a cocoon.
I lean into maturity
with the sound of waterfalls,
with the company of the cosmos.
Sterling spirals fallen to the ground.
Reverse aging.
Down to a luminous pearl.
The incantation of age, charm of wisdom.
To molt is to regenerate.
The fern unfurls its tentative hand, opens to the brightness.
I gaze into lilac layers, purified by enchantment.
About the Author:
Ingrid Keir is a Sonoma county based poet. She runs Feather Press, an indie literary press. She is co-founder of the WordParty, a long-running San Francisco poetry and jazz series. Ingrid has organized numerous readings and been a featured reader at many diverse venues in the Bay Area. She has written several books: The Secrets of Like (2004), Toward the Light (2007) and The Choreography of Nests (2016). In 2016, she was shortlisted for the Litquake poetry contest, and in 2024 she won the International Turas d’Anam Samhain Poetry Contest. You can find more info at Ingridkeir.com