Tag Archives: Trish Saunders

Trish Saunders

To the actor portraying
Federico Garcia Lorca

You are old now, too old for this part
leave Lorca dreaming of apples
in his Spanish grave, and
tend to your own trees,
with plums full of worms.

Trish Saunders writes poems from Honolulu and Seattle and, in her imagination, from the shores of Crescent Lake.  

Trish Saunders

Uncomplaining Poems

Lunchtime Détente

I pretend your rhinestone bracelet
glitters from your wrist and not the floor—
you will gaze at the ceiling
when our waiter hands over my credit card, hesitates before speaking.

Continue reading Trish Saunders Uncomplaining Poems

Trish Saunders

When You Have Reached the Trying Age

Clap along, if you can still
feel your hands
and no one
has pinned
your mittens to your coat. 

Trish Saunders writes poems from Honolulu and Seattle and, in her imagination, from the shores of Crescent Lake.