Wolf by Penelope Moffet

Wolf

When I turned 50
Jane said, Watch out,
the long slide down
starts now. In my 50s
I let go of a love
that hurt too much,
turned toward peace.
When I reached 60
Jane said, Now
begins the slow
collapse. My 60s
have been solitude,
early risings, poetry,
work, long walks
and swims.
Now I’m 67
and Jane, at 80,
says, Soon,
very soon,
you’ll burn out
like a dwarf star
collapsing
under its own weight.
This comforts me.
Ten years from now
if we’re both still here
I know
what her forecast
will be.

*

Penelope Moffet is the author of three chapbooks, most recently Cauldron of Hisses (Arroyo Seco Press, 2022). Her poems have been published in Gleam, One Art, Natural Bridge, Permafrost, Pearl, The Rise Up Review, The Sow’s Ear Poetry Review, The Ekphrastic Review, Verse-Virtual, Gyroscope and other literary journals. She lives in Southern California.

Glimmers As They Go by Penelope Moffet

Glimmers As They Go

One by one
my linchpins
are subtracted,
leaving glimmers
as they go.
Pieces of jewelry,
pendants and earrings,
remind me of those who gave them:
Janet, Jeanie, Lynn,
Roger, Mom.
When I flash
their bits of brightness
at my throat, in ears,
do they gleam again,
those laughing ones?
I cling to them,
my wire turtles, beads,
abalone sweater clasps,
yellow corncobs of fertility,
rosewood amulet
that broke apart,
I shine them,
bring them often
into light.

*

Penelope Moffet lives in Southern California. Her poems have been published in One by Jacar Press, Gleam, MacQueen’s Quinterly, Sheila-Na-Gig and elsewhere. She is the author of two chapbooks, It Isn’t That They Mean to Kill You (Arroyo Seco Press) and Keeping Still (Dorland Mountain Arts).