By Carol R. Sunde
When champagne is needed,
I suggest cod liver oil:
in a string quartet,
I am a gate-crashing tuba.
When others smile,
I often smirk:
in a bowlful of sweet plums,
I am a fiery radish.
Among nasturtiums,
I am a thistle.
Yet some few do
appreciate me―
certain goats and sheep
in spring, and songbirds
when I have gone to seed—
Copyright 2019 Sunde
Carol R. Sunde was born and raised in Iowa, and now lives within walking distance of the ocean in Westport, WA. A retired college counselor (Ph.D. in Social Work), Carol enjoys delving into her lifelong love, poetry. She’s earned a Certificate in Poetry from the University of Washington and her poems have appeared in Passager, The Comstock Review, and Raven Chronicles as well as other journals and on-line sites. Besides reading and writing poetry, Carol enjoys birding, hiking (especially on Mt. Rainier), yoga, watching the sky’s new presentations each day . . .
All work by Carol R. Sunde
