Poetry by Kersten Christianson

Planet Ink
 
Pack up the pens,
paints in acrylic & spray,
the indigo ink.
Fill the rocket ship
with pigments
in chakra hues
chroma blues & orange,
magenta for good measure.
We’ll blast off
into the black coffee sky,
veer straight for the moon,
its blank canvas surface
open for ink-smeared
scribblings, heart-beating
words.

Taku Winds
 
Do you hear me?
That knock of bare
alder branch,
the murmur
of goodnight
swans drifting
the touch
and go of tide. 
That orange-
embered fire,
hot gray coals
percolate in clam-
shell moonlight. 
Remember
this moment.

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Kersten Christianson is a raven-watching, moon-gazing, Alaskan. When not exploring the summer lands and dark winter of the Yukon, she lives in Sitka, Alaska. She holds an MFA in Creative Writing (University of Alaska Anchorage) and recently published her first collection of poetry Something Yet to Be Named (Aldrich Press, 2017).