Caroline Misner


Reeds cower their disappointments below
the scummy marsh waters,
still green but amber-tipped, they lean
like wounded soldiers in a sanitarium.
They know they haven’t much time,
but hang on to the last tendrils
of wan light seeping between
the alders and birch, their leaves
scandalously displayed like hammered tin
on the tips of their limbs.

The bog has swallowed the lake,
mossy green like over steeped tea.
Whatever lives there is dream filled
and sluggish. I feel their pain,
white and sterile as the sun that loosened
the branches with summer’s heat.
The cat is crouching, ready to pounce
beneath the birdfeeder, little
lioness in her collar of fur, taunted
by blue jays and chickadees.

Cool as a diva among her admirers,
proud and almost too slim to see,
a crane steps lightly along the shore
on awkward knees, so regal she believes
she’s a swan, the lake’s prima ballerina.
Ring after ring widens on the surface,
pocked with zig-zagging insects;
I no longer see her in a god-light;
my life ticks along with such regularity
I hardly notice her at all.


Greetings one and all and welcome to my brand new website!  Please bear with me  portraitI work on filling its pages with news and musings. Being technologically challenged, it may take a while to work out some of the glitches and I hope to have it finished within the next few weeks.  In the meantime, please feel free to browse through the archives and have a look at some of my work.  I've been writing poetry ever since I could remember and I've decided to include a section of Juvenilia in the archives.  Most of the poems listed there were written in my early teens and many of them are just plain awful!  But a few gems do stand out and I hope you enjoy them.  Also, if you would like to know more about me and the work I do, please feel free to click on "About".  There I have posted a brief biography of myself.  I'm not trying to be falsely modest, but I really loathe bragging about myself.  I feel an author's work should stand on its own merits and where an author was born or where she lives or what she eats for breakfast are completely irrelevant.

I would also be remiss if I didn't included a big Thank You! to my oldest son, Kevin, who with a friend designed this website for me and programmed it so that even I could manage it.  And another big Thank You! goes to my dear father Jan Kurz, who was in on it the whole time and provided the stunning photography behind the text of the daily poem.  And another big Thank You! goes out to all the editors, publishers and fellow writers who have supported me and my work over the years and gave me a chance when I needed it, including a Journey Prize nomination and two Pushcart Prize nominations!

"...And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it and the imagination to improvise.  The worst enemy to creativity is self doubt."
--Sylvia Plath (1932-1963)