My Poem, “A Refuge”

Have a read of my poem, “A Refuge” written during the pandemic and first published in Quadrant Magazine. “A Refuge” is one of the poems in my recently released second collection titled “Flat White, One Sugar” (Ginninderra Press).

A Refuge:

Do you know, St Honoré Bakery,

your large black & white floor tiles

show the exact space for Social Distancing?

Your blackboard menu out front

flags passage to the shopping centre.

Surely sophisticated French indulgences

upstage all else inside,

your gateaux worthy of any Parisian patisserie:

flaky puff pastry, velvety cream,

bite-sized choux balls.

But where are you on Sunday mornings, St Honoré,

when the early cyclists ride past?

Your door is closed, your ovens unlit.

Here come gumboots & wet umbrellas

as we all live through wild weather

 – back-to-back La Niñas –

and teachers from across the road arrive

in shoes with stiletto heels.

Don’t we all need a dry haven

from unrelenting winter storms?

East of the city, weather-eroded beaches

promise summer sunshine

for our light-deprived eyes.

As the ocean comes up to the land,

we hope these beaches don’t disappear.

There’s blue sky to wish for

in a gap in the clouds.

St Honoré, patron saint of bakers

& pastry cooks, I think I’m addicted to you.

I’m wondering, will your baking give

hope & warmth today?

Copyright 2024 Libby Sommer

My Poem, ‘Words’

Have a read of my poem ‘Words’ first published in Quadrant Magazine. ‘Words’ is part of my second poetry collection ‘Flat White, One Sugar’ (Ginninderra Press) published earlier this year.

I hope you enjoy it.

Words:

Belly expansions and contractions,

turning our attention to sensations,

we remember the three things you said:

breathe light, breathe slow, breathe deep.

We take control. Above us

the air conditioner hums.

At your own pace,

no need to rush.

Next door a conference

of 43 dentists learn

sensation management.

I swallow the urge to laugh.

A full exhale,

let it all go.

Your words give comfort

as they enter the gaps

between in and out,

slowing down.

Everything will

be just fine.

Afterwards, the morning looks different.

Good work everyone.

Well done.

We roll up our mats,

head for our cars –

safe from the pain,

for now.

Copyright 2024 Libby Sommer

Photo by Negative Space on Pexels.com