Kathy Ellis (Western Voices 2020)

Exclusive: Western Voices, 2020: Edited by Scott Thomas Outlar
Bio: Kathy Ellis is an English as a Second Language and Cross-cultural Communication Trainer. She seriously started writing poetry six years ago. You will find Kathy’s poetry in Peninsula Poets, Reach of a Song, Ohio Poetry Day Association, Setu International Journal, Poetry in Nature, and Oracle Magazine. Her works have received several awards and honorable mentions. She also self-published her first book of poems in 2017 and is presently working on book two. Kathy co-leads Johns Creek Poetry Group. Kathy holds a Master’s in Education with additional graduate studies in Spanish, linguistics, culture, and conflict management.

A Man and His Sign

Roads paved in gold.
Makes no sense in the land of plenty.
Your seven-year old son struck.
By a stray bullet.
From a deranged gun.
I am sorry for your sorrow.
Hold your sign.
The sign that holds the face.
Of your lovely child.
Let arms wrap.
Around your wretched pain.
You are here.
In the right place.
We hold your brokenness.
In a tender place.
Until the next time.
To march again.

Prayers of a Moroccan
The Jaws of Life
peels the pockmarked car door
from my fractured pelvis and spine.
A man with spirit eyes, a gentle voice
leans near me.
He witnesses the accident of mangled metal,
hears my echoed screams,
striking the hammer on cold steel.
I am a delirious animal
trapped in a hunter’s snare.
My subconscious strives to plead:
Pray for me.

He prays in the mosque with a thousand pilgrims from centuries past.
He prays until the protective mountains of Mecca engulf me.
He prays as though we are all one in this universe.
He prays all afternoon until he knows.

Diego’s Honeysuckle Tree

Twisted branches arch the patio wall,
Frame a lace canopy
Like a wingspan of a dancer’s shawl.
 Flights of vitality.
Blooms blink pink with yellow tips,
Flames of golden trumpets,
Invite hummingbirds
For sweet hours undeterred.
Metallic green wings weave,
Growing shadows float throughout Diego’s magical tree.
                        All while under the eternal rays
Of the sun ablaze.
Blossoms and leaves blend into nightshade.
            Diego is gone.
                        Deeper than roots that pervade
                                     His garden of Babylon.
But his memory shines
Through the kitchen windowpane,
Lying warm in my hands.
Once again.

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