Two Poems by Michael J Carter
Climate Change
Forsythia, the Easter Tree, has budded again
just in time for November’s Hunter Moon.
My father brightened like this
when the doctor gave him anywhere
from two months to two years,
thinking he got to choose. A few
spring-like days, sap thinned listening
to the tealeaves of the warming earth.
But today, it’s just too cold and I don’t
have the heart to warn the drooping
petals of this false spring. Still,
they’re beautiful
next to the winterberries
beaming blood bright and certain
for the winter to come.
Forsythia, the Easter Tree, has budded again
just in time for November’s Hunter Moon.
My father brightened like this
when the doctor gave him anywhere
from two months to two years,
thinking he got to choose. A few
spring-like days, sap thinned listening
to the tealeaves of the warming earth.
But today, it’s just too cold and I don’t
have the heart to warn the drooping
petals of this false spring. Still,
they’re beautiful
next to the winterberries
beaming blood bright and certain
for the winter to come.
Miniature
Why do you care about
poetry?
(no job, no money)
I care about poetry because
I care
about quiet: the moment before
the cricket
bows its notes, before you even knew
it existed
or remembered that it
was ever lost.
Why do you care about
poetry?
(no job, no money)
I care about poetry because
I care
about quiet: the moment before
the cricket
bows its notes, before you even knew
it existed
or remembered that it
was ever lost.
Michael J Carter is a poet and clinical social worker who lives and works in Connecticut. A graduate of Sarah Lawrence College he holds an MFA from Vermont College and an MSW from Smith. Poems of his have appeared in such journals as Boulevard, Ploughshares, Provincetown Arts Magazine among many others. He lives with his two hounds and spends his time swimming and knitting.