Margaret Saine was born in Germany and lives in California. After a Yale Ph. D. she taught Spanish and French. She writes poetry in five languages and translates other poets. Her books are “Bodyscapes,” “Words of Art,” “Lit Angels” and 5 haiku chapbooks. She has published four books in German, including the memoir “Ungeschicktes Kind” [Awkward Child]. Poetry mss. ready for publication are “The Five Senses,” “Reading Your Lips,” “A Woman in Winter,” “While Alive,” and “The Book of Travel,” as well a second and third book of poems about art. Saine’s poetry has been published in many countries. She is an editor at the California Poetry Quarterly, called CQ.
Gift
Make some words
make something out of words
–maybe never said before
or maybe quite common–
to resemble
a greeting
a smile
a giving of thanks
Make something out of words
make words not wars
In other words
–maybe an object
you’ve always wanted to exist–
to resemble
a flower
a chocolate
a gift
Giving is of the essence
give yourself in words
Only then will you be
ready for silence
Rivers All
We are rivers
born in obscurity
We are the rivers
of uncertain shores
outstretching our clavicles
Rivers to ripple
to tarry nary a minute
that skip and jump
with or without conviction
We are rivers
to rivet and ravish
things and lives
to wash over grief
the braided rivers
too broad for solace
too wet to cry
Horizons
We are all
each other’s species
Caught in a confused web
of fact and feeling
Lands thought safe and secure
have drifted and absconded
We are stories of sentiment
with occasional bits of truth
A sediment pierced by sunrays
over the morning horizon
In whose embrace we
arise from sleep
Groping vaguely forward
into a new day a second look
I want to be your deep down under
evening embrace
Your Calypso promise darling
on the daring side of love
We are all
each other’s species
