An acrostic
Rot of dead leaves block the pathways,
Even winds and rain will not remove them.
Stems broken and thick cover cactus
In the bed between my feet and the street.
Silent bare branches of the maple
Thirst for water. Every morning this chaotic scene.
And still the wren sings its song, mingles its voice
Now with the yellow-rumped warbler and the house finch.
Come, they seem to say.
Echo our calls. Who are you to stop living?
–
Margaret Anne Kean (she/her) is a poetry reader of “Inch” micro-chapbooks with Bull City Press and author of Cleaving the Clouds (Kelsay Books, 2023). Kean received her B.A. from Scripps College and MFA from Antioch University/LA. She lives and writes in Pasadena, California, and Chicago, Illinois.