Three Poems
By Susan Puciul
seed
snowdrops burn white in
the dark swells of this land
wrap a cave around me
then I will be caught
a soft thing
forced to be a seed
hand
when you’re lonely
as a cloud
your hands
at least they have
each other
nest
catbirds: chalk grey
mother in morning sun
black eye edged
in tenderness
four mouths open
in leaping greed
for all the treasures
of the world
Susan Puciul is a member of the Cleaveland House Poets. Her work has appeared in many poetry journals and anthologies. She lives in Chilmark with her family.Poets with a connection to Martha’s Vineyard are encouraged to submit poems of 120 words or fewer to m@mwest.com. Please include a two- to three-sentence bio at the end of your poem.