Thank you to Herojit Philem of Literary Garland for publishing my two poems in the November issue.

https://literary-garland.blogspot.com/2020/11/poems-by-linda-imbler.html

Moving Mountains
 
 
Now there will be new and quite different stages to conquer,
fear, guilt, and useless bargains offered.
Guitars and ukes she puts aside to make room
for his failing body’s needs.
 
A perfectly mapped out trail becomes an ancient pathway.
One trod by many, over centuries of time.
In spite of others’ lack of success,
she will still fight the good fight,
although numb and wretched.
 
Backpacking up the mountain searching cures for his health’s sake,
scrambling among the hard scrubbed brush,
moving weeds out of the way by herself,
hewing aside all sharp-edged blockades,
hoping, blood from hands mingling with tears.
 
That sky of God seen from so clear above
as she sings to him. Sweet Father, surely from here
my music suggests what dear peace we need to make us whole again.
We have always together been on our way up.
My strong clear entreaty for closure is not meant
 
to suggest he has become inconvenient.
We need your healing melodic hymn to serenade us.
Today, He has answered with a refrain
intoned sweetly, sung from Heaven,
 
and let him enter the world of eternal music.
Now she’s at the place where pitons do not matter.
One of them has fallen in the end.
She listens no longer for the ballad from the top,
taking this last descent alone.

Too Many Stars

Saving a life, breaking the law,
choosing, which to do.
Outlaws require chutzpah,
and courage imbued.
 
Planetary jurisprudence,
humanity unpolluted,
little ones not willed away;
adopting children offers grace.
 
Somewhere siblings are forbidden,
if there’s a slip up, must they kill one?
If there are too many kids,
do we oversee how many live?
 
If the world’s too overcrowded,
then,
perhaps upon the night sky

also hangs too many stars?