Thanksgiving When Jupiter’s the light you see first as it blurs the cinnamon stars and feet orbit this living room floor as you peek at a fig hearted sky, and sigh at persimmon striped lines as acute western blue feathers by, say Grace for the magnificent now as apples disappear on the sill then set into honey crowned night as a cardamom moon rises full – Who says you’ve given or taken your fill?
Kerstin Schulz is a German-American writer living in Portland, Oregon. Her work can be found in River Heron Review, HerStry, The Bookends Review, Raft, Relief, Montana Mouthful, and Cathexis Northwest Press, among other publications. She is also the winner of the PDXToday 2023 Poetry Contest.
Amethyst Review 