Three Poems
by Laurinda Lind
EYE DIALECT
Though blinded at
first by the letters
in the words still
I scrape them
from the stones
of the walls
hold them in
my mouth like
wet braille till I can
take them out to
the dead air then
try the real
languages to learn
what is awake
in them
name with right
names whatever lights
the wick of sight
FLASH FIRE
The heat beat against
our hands till gloves
of rain cooled
them and we saw
the haze on the water,
watched from holes
fire made in the smoke.
Later when the wind
caught the flames with
the waves we thought
the whole lake would
wash up to take us,
if wanting didn’t get
there first. The shore
would hike far in
to find us, ashy
ghosts gone glad-
silent in the center of
the shimmering.
FLOAT TRIP
the night fills up with narcolepsy
though we ourselves don’t sleep
water will carry us down to
the wharf as all else goes grey
around us & the songless stars
check in our eyes since we
never before got this far on
our own in the dark & we bend
our fine old fear out of gear &
stash it behind a straightout moon
with its shining mountains
with the whole sky awake
saying you should set off
before the flooding
starts all over again
Laurinda Lind is a former newspaper reporter, composition instructor, and caregiver in New York’s North Country. Some of her poems are in The Cortland Review, Paterson Literary Review, and New American Writing. She won first place in four international poetry contests. Her first chapbook, Trials by Water, came out in summer 2024 (Orchard Street Press).
COLD SIGNAL 