Kristen Lindquist
b. 1967, United States
Camden, Maine
www.kristenlindquist.com
Kristen Lindquist is a writer and naturalist living on the coast of Maine.
a grey fox slips
through my consciousness
morning fog
Acorn 45, Fall 2020
mountain path
more enlightening
on the way down
Akitsu Quarterly 43, Fall 2019
shells at low tide
finding the constellation
that points to home
Akitsu Quarterly 45, Spring 2020
heat wave
the unbearable activity
of songbirds
Akitsu Quarterly 46, Summer 2020
strawberry moon
white peonies bow
beneath the rain
summer rain
strange cries of a peacock
from the old pine
deep blue sky
the vireo singing again
and again
Blithe Spirit 30.3, August 2020
eating watermelon
on the back porch
summer rain
Blithe Spirit 30.3, August 2020
hoping the rain
turns back to snow
hunter’s moon
bottle rockets 42, February 2020
dappled light
a patch of leaf litter
becomes sparrows
The Cicada’s Cry, Summer 2020
glacial erratic
of all the places
we could be
frogpond 43.1, Winter 2020
March wind
the blue tarp flaps loose
on the wood pile
hedgerow 131, Spring/Summer 2020
as fast
as I can drive
flower moon
black ice seventh crow a secret
Kingfisher 1:1, Summer 2020
saltmarsh dawn
fish scales glinting
in the otter scat
Mariposa, Issue 42, Spring 2020
longest day
we wait up
for bats
Modern Haiku 51:3, Fall 2020
twelfth birthday
damselflies shifting
from one reed to another
wondering how
it feels to fly
question mark
longest day
the primrose moth deep
within the primrose
Presence 66, March 2020
remembering
the patterns of stars
migrants
earth day
leaving the river alone
with its thoughts
in spite of it all…
pine warbler back singing
in the pine
the last cord of wood
rising as smoke
sap moon