Courtney Birst grew up on a farm in the Midwest, but always longed for more. Moving to the Washington DC area proved to be just the thing this one-time farm girl needed. Now she loves to travel the world and is constantly on the lookout for a good book of poetry, a great glass of wine, a trail to run, and a reason to relax with friends. She has been published in numerous literary journals, including Connections, Welter, Plum Biscuit, and has published her first chapbook of poetry, Words Meant to be Spoken, available on Amazon. She has forthcoming publications in Pudding Magazine and NoVa Bards Anthology. Find her online atwww.courtneybirst.com, read her blog at www.wordperv.com, follow her on twitter:www.twitter.com/wordperv, or find her on Facebook: www.facebook.com/author.CourtneyBirst.
Two Poems (May, 2015. Issue 50.)
I wasn’t there when the gurney pushed
You had a lot to be sorry for.
With phone inches from ear
A month later I call your boyfriend,
You make me promise to wear pink
I pick out my dress, pink but not frilly.
She wore the green dress,
a little tighter on her than it’d been
My dress was pink and swam
donation from a family friend.
with afghans our mother
made tree limbs our monkey bars,
went to the library and checked out the max
We played till our bellies rumbled for knoephla soup
our father in the fields the whole time,
we made, baking like the bread
With gap-toothed grins we
before washing up and sitting down
Come Lord Jesus be our guest
Every Sunday brought church, dressed
My sister and I sat side by side,
swinging beneath the pews,
playing cat’s cradle till we broke
an imaginary string