I have know Janeen Rastall for several years. The first time I met her was at a poetry reading in which we were both participating. She was coming off a challenge of writing a poem a day for the entire month of April, National Poetry Month. If I remember correctly, one of her poems was about caring for her elderly mother. And I also remember thinking, this is a writer I have to watch.
Over the years, our paths have crossed. She is tireless in her pursuit of the art of poetry. Every once in a while, I'll receive an e-mail from her. She's a gracious and lovely person, and she's become a really great poet.
And that's why I have chosen to feature her as Poet of the Week.
by: Janeen Rastall
The surf lays out featherless wings
and sanded birch limbs,
pieces once bound by ice.
Does a wave batter debris into something better?
A woman goes to the lake.
shorts and t-shirt taunt early May,
faded welts dapple wintered flesh.
She carves the sand with a stick,
draws two names inside a heart.
In an hour the beach will be blank.
She has predicted this end,
tasted it on his menthol tongue,
felt it in each whorl and callus,
every knuckles’ edge.
When waves encroach, she snaps
a photo with her phone.
She will not stay
to see her name sucked back with the sand.