Make It the Way You Like It
Couldn’t we abandon
and trek instead in a rain forest,
picnics in our satchels,
with a few eclectic friends
who could name the vines
in Mayan and Latin,
for the rufous-naped wren’s song?
I wish I lived somewhere without winter.
I’d like a place decked with passion vines
all year, giant planters of magenta heliconias
twined with gardenias, spirituous redolence
dispersing above my window, and bugs
I’ve never seen with incandescent wings,
and furry curiosities skittering in the palms.
I’d prance in and out of the sea, old bones
in a lithe body caressing sand, water, air, then
bask like an iguana in my tropical garden chair.
Beautiful Names of Poets
Ocean Vuong Molly Peacock Destiny Birdsong
Beams through a prism, some poets’ names flow into the poem,
even names not chosen, but given. The poems pulse, kick, and
once born, fly, live their lyrical lives, meaning even more than
their poets imagined, though those beautiful bellybutton names
still refract and gleam, where once thrummed the umbilical.
Lora Berg is a 2022-23 participant in the Poetry Collective based at Lighthouse Writers Workshop in Denver. Lora has published a collaborative book with visual artist Canute Caliste (†), and poems in Shenandoah, Colorado Review, The Carolina Quarterly, etc. She served as a Poet-in-Residence at the Saint Albans School and holds an MFA from Johns Hopkins. Lora teaches English as a volunteer. Lora served as Cultural Attaché at U.S. Embassies abroad and has lived in several countries. She is a proud mom and grandma.