Please enjoy today’s selection: “No, It’s Called Flower” by Judith Skillman, which appears in The Poeming Pigeon: Doobie or Not Doobie:

No, It’s Called Flower

Not weed, I was told
by the young man
behind the counter.
Weed is seen in a bad light,
he explained, for its connotations.

Flower—here he gestured
at thick buds of Kush,
Strawberry Pie, and Diesel
fi lling glass jars,
spilling their scent

into the room, arrayed
in shades of verdant green,
huge buds horny as hell
for what they’d been deprived of.
—Flower is pretty, more acceptable.

I applaud your rebranding,
I said, the question
of how to inhale
without burning my throat
still there on my lips, unasked.

The post Poem of the Day (04-20-2018) appeared first on The Poetry Box.

Please enjoy today’s selection: “Dirty Girl” by Kristin Roedell, which appears in The Poeming Pigeon: Doobie or Not Doobie:

Dirty Girl

Fall and winter mornings
were awash with mist.
It took me an hour
to circle the lake;
I sat on every bench,
I memorized the plaques.

A moss-covered tree stretched
branches across the shallows;
the ducks were pearled along
them, waiting for the winter sun
to come up,
bills tucked into feathers.

I saw God
in the simple angles
that followed them
as they swam.
When startled, they lifted
in a flood of wings, returning
like a gentle rain.

September
I sat under a red and gold oak,
leaves spread beneath me
in a rich gown.
December
I walked the high trails,
a hoarfrost on the reeds.
I wrote a poem (this poem)

to not forget the sound
of leaves underfoot.
I have never known
such a graceful falling
of the year.

It might have been
the marijuana,
pungent and strong;
I smoked it that year.
They called it
Dirty Girl—

but I have never been
so clean.

The post Poem of the Day (04-10-2018) appeared first on The Poetry Box.