In celebration of National Poetry Month, I am inviting several poet friends to join me in my daily endeavor of paying poetic attention to the world. This week I am humbled and thrilled to be sharing the practice with my dear friend TC Tolbert, who was recently named the Poet Laureate of Tucson, AZ.  TC often identifies as a trans and genderqueer feminist, collaborator, dancer, and poet but really s/he’s just a human in love with humans doing human things. Find out more and follow him here.

when leaves come back
we forget about branches.
i mean bones,
i mean the basic
structure of support
inside any situation.
maybe lonlieness
is a lack of peripheral vision.
if you find yourself weeping
after five days
of rain in a row,
try going for ten.
maybe letting go
of looking up
is the kind of prayer
we need.

photo and poem by katherine ferrier ©2017

I didn’t drink today
and most days
are just days
in which drinking doesn’t
occur – no matter
who I love – every
time I see a bird
on the ground I see a bird
with a plastic feather
in its mouth – I know
I shouldn’t long
for what threatens
my existence – I miss
her – quotation marks
in the air but still
visible – sitting
inside a boy’s haircut –
North Carolina
pouring Bailey’s into
10am on a burnt auburn
couch – we no longer live
in the flight path – just
across Tucson there are planes
in training – they want
as they wake to be planes
in Syria – having already been
planes in Afghanistan and planes
in Iraq – there are prayers
we pray to go
missing – most of me
wants to be the kind of ash
that pushes itself
up from the earth –
every time I pray
I pray to make
peace with my
impotence – most of me
wants you
to be my best
love – wants to be held
down

photo and poem by TC Tolbert ©2017