By Kathleen Holliday
Because of,
or perhaps despite
my whisperings,
the African violet thrives.
When I woke this morning,
my heart daunted by what
we humans keep doing
to other humans,
there it was:
a bud that wasn’t there yesterday,
topping a pale stem in a whorl of green,
a tiny fist raised
to the light.
Copyright Holliday 2021
Kathleen Holliday lives on an island in the Salish Sea. Her poems have appeared in The
Bellingham Review, The Blue Nib Literary Magazine, Cathexis Northwest Press, New Ohio Review, Nimrod International Journal, Poet Lore, Poetry Super Highway, SHARK REEF, The Write Launch and other journals. She is a graduate of Augsburg University, Minneapolis, MN. Her first chapbook, Putting My Ash on the Line, was published by Finishing Line Press, 2020;
her second, Boatman, Pass By, by Finishing Line Press, 2023.
All work by Kathleen Holliday
