Two Poems by Julia Caroline Knowlton

Liberté

A canvas wet with paint,
     a bow singing strings.

Every time our bodies join
     in union, sky away.

Ocean waves silver,
     say what they don’t say.

 

Memorial Service

End of summer, Michigan. Silver ash flight,
going home to nothing in his favorite lake.

A final wave goodbye caught in wind and light,
then into water down. I touched my own end,

dry & chalky. It was my father, leaving time
forever, a vanishing act. No holy notions,

just bone dust in memory that does not fade.
Wildflowers strewn on water while his jazz played.

 

 

Julia Caroline Knowlton is Professor of French at Agnes Scott College in Atlanta, where she has taught for twenty-five years. She has a PhD in French Literature from UNC-Chapel Hill and an MFA in Poetry from Antioch University. The author of four books, she was named a Georgia Author of the Year in 2018. She is the recipient of an Academy of American Poets College Prize and a Pushcart nominee. Her work has recently appeared in literary journals such as Boston Literary Magazine and Raw Art Review. You can find her on Facebook.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s