Hail Storm
A storm just shuddered over us
scattering icy pearls over everything
the trees and their mossy coats
make bowls and cups to collect
the tiny delicate pellets of wildness.
How tender they are.
How brave.
The sun prepares to take them back.
They will be gone soon, not dead,
but breath for ravens and frogs
singing in the aftermath.
Now the forest is steaming and stretching
out in front of me. Proud of herself.
I could die right here and become
breath and fire,
just like the ice.
Sharon RC Lee has been writing poetry and prose since she was young. For the last twenty years she has been focused on raising her kids and on her career as a psychologist and therapist trainer in Portland, Oregon. Now on sabbatical, she is working on a memoir as well as essays and poetry. She has an essay that was published in Hip Mama, and she has written two chapters for a book edited by Ken Hardy that will be published next year.
Amethyst Review 