3 Poems
Kortney Garrison
Kortney Garrison lives with her family in the Pacific Northwest where she homeschools her children. Their days are filled with stacks of books, nature walks, and many cups of tea. Her poems have appeared in Solitary Plover, Hummingbird, and Warming Station Poems. You can find Kortney online at kortneygarrison.com
BUT IN THE BODEGA
where we walked after the rain let up,
a woman gathered groceries with a baby on her shoulder.
A baby brand new, only weeks old,
still awake. His toes, bare and hearty.
We stood in front of the freezer case.
He looked at me as if to say, Yes,
we two are devoted
to the persistent god of our hunger.
Then his mother shifted her awkward packages,
balanced the baby again, and they were off,
through the swinging doors into the great, gray world.
AFTER EQUINOX
The earth tilts toward cold. Lopsided
days tumble toward darkness.
The moon, too, shutters
its lone eye.
YOU DON’T HAVE TO WAIT TO BE HAPPY
In the reckless swirl of the world
each day’s labor grows clear
Our only work
is to be changed
