Poetry by Kerrie Savage
Sometimes, in my sleep,
you are a cub and I hold you close
face to face, I can feel your warm breath,
wet nose against my cheek;
you whisper secrets in my ear, fidget in my arms,
and I let you go
until next time.
Sometimes you are full grown and I am not fearful
though I know I should be; you keep your distance
but speak to me with an air of importance.
I want to follow you, but I don’t belong in your world;
I want to remember what you tell me
so when I’m awake, I’ll understand why,
but I never remember.
Sometimes we run into each other accidentally
as if our dreams weren’t meant to collide,
and we are both startled.
I want you to speak truths,
I live in a world that no longer makes sense,
but you don’t;
we pass in silence, sometimes
it is enough to know you’re still there.
Kerrie Savage earned her PhD in literature from Arizona State University in 2006 and promptly moved to the PNW. Best decision ever. She teaches college writing full time to seniors at McMinnville High School; it is a sweet gig. In her spare time and on long summer days she dabbles in watercolor and mixed media, writes poetry, drinks wine, and bums around town with her family and dogs. Her poem “Marginalia” has been published in Paper Gardens, 2016, a chapbook featuring the writers of Yamhill County, OR; visit her art and poetry blog at https://almostingit.wordpress.com/