Poetry | Madeleine Brink

Writer · Translator · Educator

Sunlight filtering through a forest of tall trees

An Artist at Heart

An Artist at Heart A poem was written down four years ago, the notebook subsequently lost. But like an oft-viewed video the images still appear

Narrow street lined with traditional houses after the rain

Mi barrio – My Neighborhood

My Neighborhood Algunos saludos, cálidos or if I’m wearing chanclas, miradas de desdén I know many by sight, every day more by name. Rafa, Marian,

Woman standing in the shallow sea in front of a stone boathouse

Elizabeth

Elizabeth How is it possible that the presence of one small person can unblock the waterways of the heart And allow ships of sadness to

Sea stack off a sandy Oregon beach at dusk

II.

II. Man have I missed the Oregon coast Bathing suits and puffy coats fishing boats and fleece, all styles of sporting hats with flannel and

Cozy bed with cushions and a knitted blanket

At my ankles

At my ankles he sits, or lounges nobly, a gentlemanly position with expected canine vigilance. A chimera all: he is really frightened, sexually aggressive, fragile,

Playing cards spread across a wooden table

The Shuddering Shuffling Feeling

The Shuddering Shuffling Feeling Flexibly laminated thick orbicular- cornered papers fly fleeing my fingers queens, twos, fives, into the feather-thin vacancies they occupy, and snugly