Signs by Kersten Christianson


Did I miss
the mile markers?
The signs? Dead
lilac bush in spring,

raspberry canes
stripped of verdancy,
their fat digit fruits
a memory from summer

past. Moss-tangled flower
beds, the wild Yukon rose
you gifted me, run amuk.
I’d give all the dandelions

pushing through hard ground,
coiled fiddleheads, the first
blush of rhododendron bloom
for one more fall with you.

Kersten Christianson is a raven-watching, moon-gazing, Alaskan. When not exploring the summer lands and dark winter of the Yukon, she lives in Sitka, Alaska. She holds an MFA in Creative Writing (University of Alaska Anchorage) and recently published her first collection of poetry Something Yet to Be Named (Aldrich Press, 2017). Kersten is the poetry editor of the quarterly journal, Alaska Women Speak

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