These three poems by Lily Hinrichsen consider the poet’s broken self, only to realize reality isn’t as it seems, and hope comes in bearable forms…
by: Lily Hinrichsen
morning | path | brokenBroken is how she felt when she awokea cloudy morning following an equally dark nightnocturnal demons determined to steal her breathold meddlers outstaying their visitwreaking havoc on the path laid before hera long road she has trod and sown and carvedredirected lost and found againa journey back to herselfthe one whose wings were never clippedwho smiled easily and loved deeplythat’s who she longed to wake to this morninginstead her spirit lay in fragments beside her pillowOn this summer morningdripping with the oppressive sweatof last night’s dreams she awakensto songs of chickadee and cardinallilting melodies carving the thick airlaying before her a path to a new dayThrough broken fragments she findsher way to the open doorThe morning is brokenby a thought that occurs to heras she makes her way to the compost pileA path strewn with squirrels’ playthingswith artifacts later collected by robinsto form vessels of hopeShe thinks what if the past was never mine
Dear MorningI’m so happy to see you after an arduous journey of doubt
Upon WakingCicadas sound their whining buzzcatching the cool breeze comingthrough the screen doorspreading a thin blanket of remembering over meI search myself for leftover shrapnelfrom elapsed panic attacksbut all I find is slow breathingand skin constructed of lightWonder has replaced doubtTranquility has broken from a shell of fearThe intention of my ears is to hear godin the language of cicadas and in this momentI’m helpless to do anything else
Lily Hinrichsen is bilingual, her birth language is imagery. A language that wants to be felt. Her life of artmaking and the written word has been a life of translation. It’s not enough to just observe…she must give things a voice. She is fluent in painting, drawing, printmaking, knitting, and words. She has shown her art in galleries throughout New England, and has published poetry in Three Fingers Review, deLuge, Periwinkle Literary Magazine, and Zig Zag Lit. Her first self-published chapbook, Being Here, arrived in the world August 2020. She resides in Vermont where the clouds form haiku, every river is a poem, and every unturned stone holds a bit of gossip.
