Poets Corner: Two for You for Valentine’s Day

Poets Corner: Two for You for Valentine’s Day

Nothing is in stone about the Christian martyr who was buried near Rome on February 14. There were a number of different Saint Valentines: even Pope Gregory had no clue who the guy was when he established a feast in his name in the fifth century. Historians assume the pontiff made that move to white-wash the pagan holiday of Lupercalia, an ancient Roman tradition of worshipping the goat lord Pan (known as Faunus in the Roman cosmology), to rid the city of evil spirits and restore fertility. A dog and a goat were usually sacrificed; salt cakes were burned by vestal virgins; and a good time was had by all. Fast forward to the 17th-century Great Britain, when Valentine’s Day became popularly celebrated. Americans began exchanging hand-made cards and other tokens of affection by the early 1700s. And today? As his barbs hit their mark, Cupid continues to do his happy dance. And to help celebrate the day, two poems by regular contributors. Ridgway locals Erika Gordon and Kierstin Bridger, both of whom have brand new books just out (Erika) or about to come out (Kierstin, March 1). Erika’s ‘Phases” honors the sense of the sacred in daily life, with awareness of one’s interiority mirrored in the external environment. Kierstin’s narrative is a gritty, moving account of Telluride’s prostitutes, women who lived in the shadow world. Both books will be available at Between the Covers Bookstore.

A Love Poem, by Erika Moss Gordon


With eyes
that do not
look away,

you listen
to my breath
as the sky paints

sunlight onto
midnight blue.
Like a bird

made of courage,
you fling words
off a morning cliff

before you know
if they have
wings to fly.

I want to bury my face
in your downy feathers
while you teach me

to love
like this morning rain,
early and generous,

and to receive
like thirsty ground.
Pink clover blossoms

dapple the grassy
hillside. There are
more today than even

yesterday. Everything
is finding its way
toward opening.


Lamplight, Kierstin Bridger

Spring walk in Barcelona

Spring walk in Barcelona


Our shadows walk before us

until moonlight fades

and we enter the darkened path.


We pick out planes from fixed stars

watch them blink, glide and intersect.

Below male and female collide—

shoulders and hips kiss and sway.

Thatched fingers build a future

under whispers and hunched, nodding heads.


Patterns emerge. We move close then apart,

assume this will always be the way.

Sage scent followed by wood smoke,


darkness then illumination,

cool undercurrents then warmth.

Sometimes all I know is your heat,


all I am is the seeking.

Most times we feel our linked selves.

Sometimes it’s only our hands making nest.


No Comments

Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.