Poetry by Pamela Hobart Carter

High in the plum, a finch emits 
a song for no one but other finches. 

Chill air signals an equinox gone from this hill, 
from this hemisphere. 

Darkness cinching days, a drawstring 
closing drapes. 

Grays clinch their rule. 

Inch further indoors, duck down crannies, flinch 
deep into cingulate cortices.

First, filch the bird’s music to revisit, hinging human happiness 
on finch notes.

Pamela Hobart Carter is a teacher, artist, and writer with two geology degrees. Her plays have been read or produced in Seattle (her home), Montreal (her childhood home) and Fort Worth. She is the author of three chapbooks: Her Imaginary Museum (Kelsay Books, 2020), Held Together with Tape and Glue (Finishing Line Press, 2021), and Only Connect (forthcoming from ShabdAaweg Press). As a Covid-times activity she added make-a-poem-at-home lessons to her website: https://playwrightpam.wordpress.com/. Her poetry has been nominated for Best of the Net and The Pushcart Prize.

Photo by Bruno Kelzer on Unsplash