A Pair of Poems by Lydia Ondrusek

Printed in recognition of the anniversary of Hurricane Katrina. 

Breakwater
by Lydia Ondrusek

Break, water on
stones lifting from the sea,
earth’s very arms, hands cupped;
and we, small birds, held safe.
Break, water, on.
Truth obeys no tide,
we cannot change it,
only try to understand –
only sit on truth, together,
looking out across the water.

Only sit on truth, our feet wet,
dreaming of the sky.

Demitasse
by Lydia Ondrusek

If I believed in reincarnation, she says,
I’d think I used to live in New Orleans

every cast iron railing
makes me think of home
my hand remembers flowers twisting,
muscle around bone

when I bite into a moment, she says
powdered sweetness drifts
hangs in the air,
sparkling like this rain
it settles on me
anoints me as a child of God

Listening to her
I hear a paddlewheel stirring water
and the clop of hooves
the car horns
become a jazz symphony
no one hears but me

and maybe her

She raises her umbrella as the light changes;
hips swaying like a dancer,
sashays to the other side

Lydia Ondrusek lives in Richardson, Texas, and often writes about Southern experiences and locations. She has had fiction and poetry published online and in print since 2008 in a diverse range of publications that include Flash Fiction Online and Falling Star Magazine. Her new story “Help Wanted” is included in Beast Within 2: Predator & Prey anthology. Follow her on Twitter @littlefluffycat.