Hayden Saunier

Hayden Saunier

Hayden Saunier is the author of three books, Tips for Domestic Travel, Say Luck, which won the 2013 Gell Poetry Prize, and Field Trip to the Underworld. Her work has been awarded the Pablo Neruda Prize, Rattle Poetry Prize, Robert Fraser Award, has been nominated several times for a Pushcart Prize and widely published.

She is also an actress whose credits include The Sixth Sense, Philadelphia Diary, Hack, House of Cards, Do No Harm, the voice of a broken-down stove for Ikea, and dozens of roles in the theatre.

Hayden Saunier lives on a farm in Pennsylvania.

Author’s website: www.haydensaunier.com

 
World View

A man and a woman wander away
from the noisy light-strung square,

begin to stroll the narrow street
below my window, slowly,

aware of the uneven sea-stone
cobbles beneath their feet.

Hands catch and release.
They are in each other’s nets.

They circle, touch, retreat.
How quickly they’ve been trapped

by geography—wheeling birds,
sea, shore, salt, heat—

caught up in the ancient history
of men and women attempting

to storm the steep-walled
villages of each other’s hearts.

 
Thrice

Wrought iron rosette
on a rooftop door that opens
to both mountains and sea,
you made a bruise on my shoulder

shaped like a child’s
valentine. I don’t mind.
Like a fairy tale spell,
I struck you three times,

as I carried, first olives,
then cheeses, then a deep rosy wine
to a friend who’s come back,
still alive, still alive.

 
Unexpected Ocean Journey

A blue-arched doorway curls
beneath a house beam

and sends it out to sea

pulled by a bright spinnaker
of scarlet bougainvillea

unfurling from a terracotta pot.

 
Seaside Retirement

Grandmothers drop the wide straps
of their brassieres

grandfathers unbutton white shirts
pull them over their heads

like young men at sea’s edge
they stretch out in their bodies still bodies

still able to hear waves turn
over the beach stones with satisfied

clicks in a sun that’s still warm
in October the breezes still light

for delicious long days
no one thinks of the children

the lost or the found ones the real or imagined
but of their own fathers and mothers

the sun on the warm step
strong hands on their shoulders

small stones clicking
over and over and smaller and smoother.

 
All poems on this post: © Hayden Saunier
Published with the permission of Hayden Saunier