January 2, 2018 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

Tom Barrett photo



Lianne Kamp




Sonnet 2017



There have been years that deserved a tribute,

days piled in a gift basket – hiding most

of the rotten fruit that we contribute

discreetly into the yearly compost.

Other years leave heavy, laden with dust,

ash, and decay. Only after thorough

excavation will gold shine through the rust,

or seedlings be found, struggling for life.  So

we stare past global wounds, listen across

the cosmic screams, to the intimate face

of our daily lives where triumphs and loss

are familiar enough for an embrace.

Then we toast a year, softened in champagne,

and swallow the hope, in spite of the pain.






Lianne Kamp

I came to Boston many years ago to write poetry.  Although I never abandoned poetry altogether, life had different plans for me. I have rediscovered the importance of writing and over the last year have been published in a number of Prolific Press journals. Mainly, I write poetry to make my world more panoramic by watching it more closely.

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