Poetry Campfire

Saturday mornings we sit,

women on metal chairs

meant for an auditorium,

purple batik covering a table between

white styrafoam cups stacked in fours

until we uncork their lips

and pour morning awakeness

clearing reticence from our hearts

and sleep from still clogged throats

We stir sweenter and selves

more familiar now than scared

reading our lines  our lives

unfolding on white bond

and conversation between

Carefully we comment delight

in our sisters’ words each’s

image and sound formed

in her own likeness   each cause

for inspiration and awe

These mornings we gather

to learn and embrace

each other’s knowing

Peggy Messerschmidt