This week’s poem, Janie J. Gendron’s “Loft,” finds its speaker in gentle, healing free-fall. I love the imagery and scents of this poem, and how its short lines let us feel ourselves momentarily adrift in midair. I also appreciate its open-ended final line, and the ongoing cycle it suggests.
Gendron is a poet living in York and a clinical social worker who works with active-duty military members at Portsmouth Naval Shipyard. She listens to amazing and heartfelt stories every day in her counseling practice, and poetry is her solace and sanctuary.
Loft
By Janie J. Gendron
I keep falling from earth
blowing like milkweed
dandelion fluff
twirling
eyes closed
there is no sense
of time or space
wind lifts
light and loft
airing me out
a small wren
gently down
on a bed of green
clover, mint,
lavender, thyme
contentment
until
Megan Grumbling is a poet and writer who lives in Portland. Deep Water: Maine Poems is produced in collaboration with the Maine Writers & Publishers Alliance. “Loft” copyright © 2021 by Janie J. Gendron, appears by permission of the author.
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