Tag Archives: nostalgia


reinen Wein einschenken (in wine there is truth)

Categories: Poems, Tags: , , ,

Happy New Year!

It is because the hem of her skirt
stays below the knee now;
Because the lips of her mouth
twist toward shadows at dusk-

Pull down the weight of memory
like people at night who
pull down the blinds.

Some days she thinks it is simple;
that everyone she sees
is a thin wisp of smoke.

That their voices, narrow and stark
as grey hallways, must be the reason
she turns away.

The glass of Merlot becomes
lost friends and lovers,
makes her less afraid
of strangers in subways-

the disheveling of
old sweaters and dreams.

~Heather Lenz

(for my grandmother)















Categories: Poems, Tags: , , ,

TEXTURE Original handwritten Italian letter on genuine aged paper-1778

Envelopes in boxes, another day of rain. Lead me
to the place where there is a door called Home, something
like a cure for words that rise like giant shadows
when the heart is alone.

It’s been years since I read any letters,
since pages, yellowing, trembled in the folds
of my hands. So many are gone now, either
by breath or estrangement

I keep them like someone who does not
toss the flowers from the vase until the last
blue petal falls, till the fragrance becomes

I don’t want to forget the fires, the lost
forevers, the shadows where dreams filtered
into dust. But yet I do want to forget more
often these days. Offer food to birds that

fly away and leave no gift except the
echo of their song. Maybe that is why this
box is mostly closed, like so many layers of
time. Hurry up. Open the door.

~Heather Lenz



Categories: Poems, Tags: , , , ,

Shoe Box

The grass glistens religiously,
a replica of your reflection in the window
where the music whispered
a departure from your lips.

Even now, I keep the wind diluted
in this cup, and recognize the taste of bread
as a smell sifting from the Creek Cafe.

The weight of this rush amuses me.
I organize answers, and waste a box
of memories on your touch.

~Heather Lenz



Categories: Poems, Tags: , , , , ,


An ocean of forget-me-nots

You starved yourself
on the streets of desire,
There were lamp-posts reflecting
in the rain.

They made you
think of yesterday,
of a clean tomorrow.

You always had that quiet wisdom-
blossoming, then falling
from your eyes.

I did not hold you enough.
I was too busy whispering words
from pomegranate lips,
dancing on the dark night.

I always knew it would come to this;
A full October moon,
This Autumn loneliness,
These stains of impossible

~Heather Lenz

for my mother

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