This, too

 Mapping the Journey
By Laura L. Hansen

The old Atlas open in front of me,
I plan my route. I will write my first word,
there, in the middle of the Northwest 
Angle of Minnesota, or maybe 
at the headwaters of the Mississippi.

I will run a line of poems down the river,
leaving a few asides like backwards-
flowing tributaries - nonsensical, yes,
but this is my trip and my road atlas
so I can plan it as I see fit. 

My pen has stilled and is pooling 
leaked ink like a glacial lake 
forming where no lake was before. 
You can name it if you want. 
Preferably something ancient.

Here on the lake, you will find 
shorebirds shaped like commas 
and dabbling ducks with yellow feet 
the shape of asterisks that spatter stars 
across the indigo water. 

A loon dives and disappears 
and surfaces on the next page. 
He is swimming across Kansas. 
He dives again and his head pops up 
off the coast of Florida.

This, too, is Minnesota.

My Minnesota

The Storm Inside, The Quiet Without
by Laura L. Hansen

The redlightdistrictdigits 
of the alarm clock illuminate 
tornadic twist of sheets 
blankets artlessly drape off  
the side of the bed 
contorted gray sweater 
torn off  in cyclone of night sweat 
pillows rucked up against the storm 

the quiet deer slip 
into the silent town 
slipping silently across roads
nipping lithely over fences
their stealthy approach silenced 
by small gusts of wind

It has been difficult to read or write or do much of anything. My dearest boy (dog) Woody at only nine years has suddenly started to show signs of dementia. When I try to read or write or hold my phone or use the laptop or watch TV he becomes agitated, jumps on me and clings with a desperation that is overwhelmingly painful to see. So, I have grabbed a few moments tonight to share some work in rough progress.

A lot of you have been seeing photos on the news from Minnesota. The Minneapolis/St. Paul metro area is only a very small portion of our beautiful lake-filled and, yes, snowy state. I just wanted to share a few pictures with you of what a fine, fine place this is. It is a boater’s dream, a peaceful place, a land of sunsets and glittering waters and trees that help us breathe. We are the home of the Boundary Waters Canoe Area which we are desperately trying to protect. We are red, we are blue, we are hockey, we are artists and poets and Vikings fans. We do not deserve Trump’s ire and disparagement. We ask for your love.