​POETRY  
​    

" as the moon rises over the mountains appearing
Aubergine in the evening light,"

                                     Photo by Kathryn J. Miller                                  

Aubergine
by Kathryn J. Miller

Photo by Kathryn J. Miller

​​Our hands are finger-painting
The sky, as the moon rises over the mountains appearing
Aubergine in the evening light,
Using our hearts to lead us, finding
Our way across a sea of mesas grey and
Green, this shade not aubergine,
Walking, crossing the space, ground firmly planted
Under our feet, heading toward the mountain of eggplant, no
That color aubergine
 
Using that word aubergine, filling us with
Grace and beauty, aubergine, feeling like
A spell cast on a mystical night
When we used our hands to raise that
Pearly moon cycling across a midnight blue sky
Above aubergine mountains where
Greens of the mesa turn to greys and
The moon and stars strike light through the sky
And the mountains remember the magnificent shade
Aubergine

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​​Kathryn Miller works in poetry and visual arts. She was trained as a tapestry weaver and has been engaged in collage, iPad painting, along with the woven world. She often returns to her love of poetry. Kathryn is an avid explorer of words and images. Her home is New Mexico and has worked in the Bay Area for the past 18 years. Her PhD explored women’s narrative and what women do with their stories from their lives. Her poetry books include Tango Dancer and Triologue, which was written with two friends through email. Both were self-published. Her professional work has been as an executive coach with private and public organizations.

Other works in this issue:
Poetry:
​I cannot tell you
What If  .  .  .

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