all night I picked the peaches

Here are some of the poems I’ve been enjoying recently (the first two because they’re wonderful, and the third because it’s funny):

The orchard was still, the canals ran steadily.
I was a girl then, my chest its own walled garden.
How many ladders to gather an orchard?
I had only one and a long patience with lit hands
and the looking of the stars which moved right through me
— from “The Leaving” by Brigit Pegeen Kelly

Damp-haired from the bath, you drape yourself
upside down across the sofa, reading,
one hand idly sunk into a bowl
of crackers, goldfish with smiles stamped on.
Mermaid Song” by Kim Addonizio

He puts on his new new cool sunglasses,
baggy blue Bermuda shorts (he’s sick of red),
yellow stripy T-shirt that doesn’t quite cover his belly
and lets his toes breathe in flip-flops.
— “The Day After The Day After Boxing Day” by Paul Cookson

Also, my 2009 poems eligible for the Rhysling (Short Poem).