quartet  #1

apple tree shade sings
wuahh-thunk.
thick fingers pull
arrow shanks from the bale,
smooth the feathers,
verify the place on
my cheek where the
taut chevron string
should be, point me at
the target


not pies.  dishes of
birdseed.  windowsill finches
watch us click needles.
wrinkled fingers rearrange
my yarn, stroke my hair,
admire my
jumble of knots.

thicket. thick with it –
coming of age,
hustled from boys’ play
to Playboys and then
get it
for real;
hot summer
secrets you told



a hat & an hour late
always.  too loud – too cute
for us all.  but you come
a thousand miles to the funeral,
wipe a tear from
my cheek, wipe it
from right where your knuckle
goes if you know
how to draw the bow

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quartet #1 was nominated for a 2014 Pushcart prize

Many thanks to Raven Chronicles editors Amy Pence, Donna Miscolta, & Phoebe Bosché for the nomination.

© Kayt Hoch -all rights reserved; see details here for publication / use permission.

the poem quartet #1  by Kayt Hoch was first published in Raven Chronicles vol. 20 - Phoebe Bosché, managing editor