Your grandfather’s legs your foundation, Poolside, tops of palm trees seize the breeze Your legs meld into his, even with the beach towel leans into his breathing chest, breath given over to love long ago, at your birth, All is confirmed again when you both catch Your grandfather’s large hand in view, Yvonne Leach earned her Bachelor of Arts in English from Washington State University and a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing Poetry from Eastern Washington University. Over the years, She has been published in literary magazines and anthologies in the United States. Her work has appeared in Cimarron Review, Clare Literary Magazine, Crack the Spine, Fogged Clarity, Former People, Ramingo’s Porch, Reed Magazine, Rocky Mountain Revival, South Carolina Review, South Dakota Review, Spoon River Poetry Review, Suisun Valley Review, and Wisconsin Review, among others. Her first collection of poems, Another Autumn, was published in 2014 by WordTech Editions.
May You Revisit this Memory Often
forget the white plastic chair holding you both.
and fronds fill your eyes in a protective dance.
damp between you. Your back
that does not need to form words when
the world became yours.
the red flash of the flycatcher’s underbelly.
and he whispers: Look!About the Author
