Two Poems, by Kelli Lage


As the earth revolves, it reaches out its fingertip
and brushes the dog’s chin.
A face now adorned in gray edges.
I meet her gaze and my veins are warmed.
How many Christmas ribbons have you seen?
Did the gold leak from them and seep into your irises?
The shimmering magic of holidays
that many try to catch in their palms
lives in you.
How many Christmas bells have you heard chime?
Their purpose, a tin-can melody that all can hum to,
yet you turn it to silver lullabies.
If I don’t find you resting near the tree skirt next year,
I’ll look to the tinsel that drizzles from midnight.

The First Peak of Winter

Leaves caressed by the first powder of the season.
Shades of tangerine and cider peak out
below a quilted patch of pearly snow.
Burnt licks of autumn
use their numbing tongues
to slip out songs of hanging on.
I find their cries beautiful
because the same bellows scratch at my throat,
trying to claw their way out.
Why does the crooning last until branches become brittle?
Don’t they know thawing will come?
Don’t my palms know thawing will come?

Kelli Lage lives in the Midwest countryside. Lage is currently earning her degree in Secondary English Education and works as a substitute teacher. Awards: Special Award for First-time Entrant, 2020, Iowa Poetry Association. Website: