Richard Widerkehr
Lichen In February
Now when green-gray lichen on wet branches
is more visible, I run near the fog-line
of our chip-seal road. It starts to drizzle.
When I think of my sister, I picture
this street person in a ragged hood. There was
a lilac tree, she said, a white lilac.
When I tightened speed skates with my skate key,
she tied silk slippers by her ballet barre.
In our basement by the player piano,
we played hockey with two brooms,
a tennis ball on hardwood floors. She has
her place, no phone, answers no letters.
Lichen on wet alders, now a brown-tail deer.
No, I never saw my sister dance.
Bio
Richard Widerkehr's fifth book of poems, Missing The Owl, is available from Shanti Art Publications. He also has three chapbooks and one novel, Sedimental Journey (Tarragon Books). His work has appeared in over one hundred publications, including Shot Glass Journal and Rattle. One of his poems was broadcast by Garrison Keillor's Writer's Almanac. Richard won two Hopwood first prizes for poetry at the University of Michigan, three Sue C. Boynton awards, and first prize for a short story at the Pacific Northwest Writers Conference.