Kathleen Brewin Lewis 

In June, summer

circles back like a canyon condor.
The precocious valley greens
with Queen Anne’s lace and clover,
droning bees, clicking grasshoppers.

Late-blooming mountains are still
dark with conifers, their highest ground 
pale with morning frost. The fox’s kits 
huddle in their hillside den. Before long 

they will make their way down 
to the sundrenched valley, leap 
through tall grass, feast on lizards,
dewlaps flashing bright as berries.


July’s Thick Kingdom

Chalice of cherries,
bloody juice on the chin.
A sorcerer’s crumbling of mint.
The brown hare spent
and snagged in the bramble,
the huntsman’s lost arrow bent.
Crown of clouds, throne of honeysuckle,
flask of dandelion wine. The falcon 
alights on a gauntlet of broom moss.
Sunset flares through the regal pines.

In the dwindling glow, fireflies.
In the raptor’s beak, a golden coin.


Auguries of August

The river has slipped over its banks
and into the woods.
Its quiet darkness laps the shins 
of the old-growth pines.
The oak whispers 
to the spotted owl: 
Better build your nest as high 
as possible. The spotted owl 
murmurs to the oak:  If fish come, 
it will have begun to be over.  

And what of the field mice?

The water ripples.
The breeze holds its breath.
The river has slipped over its banks
and into the woods.


And so, September

arrives to straddle the seasons—
parching heat, then spattering rain. 
Too late to save the corn but in time 
to sprout the pumpkin. There will be
plenty of down-to-earth suns to sell 
at fall farmers markets, along with hickory nuts 
and collards, cured hams and radishes,  
amber jars of honey. Bright dahlias 
wrapped in dampened newsprint; 
cinnamon-laced pies. The solstice
has been recalled; the equinox advances.
Soon—a heady whiff of wood smoke, 
yellow leaves stunning
the black pond. 



Kathleen Brewin Lewis is a Georgia writer whose work has appeared in Valparaiso Poetry Review, Heron Tree, Yemassee, San Pedro River Review, and the Southern Poetry Anthology Vol. V: Georgia. In 2014 her first chapbook, Fluent in Rivers, was nominated for a Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net, and was a finalist for the Ron Rash Award in Poetry at Broad River Review. A graduate of Wake Forest University, she has an MA in Professional Writing from Kennesaw State. Kathleen is senior editor of the online journal, Flycatcher


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