At the Edge - Summer Koester

She
 is a
  swirl of
    Chinese silk
      in red  ̶  the color
       luck  ̶  searching
        for her moonlight at
         a beach of the same
           name. She fancies herself
            a genie who will grant you
             three wishes on this first day
               of 2020, although I don’t have
                 the heart to tell her that the
                    Chinese New Year isn’t until
                      the 25th, and genies are not
                       from the far east. But there
                       is a coven of priestesses
                      summoning Gaia under
                      fractals of gold and fuchsia,
                     and somewhere between
                   hindsight and foresight,
                 bubbles the size of heads
               entice my whirling genie
             to where water swallows
           the sun and a sky of
         scarlet macaw
       tails is chased
     over the edge
   by a Cheshire
  cat
moon.

Summer Koester teaches Spanish to middle schoolers in Juneau, Alaska, where social distancing is a way of life. Currently she is learning how to teach Spanish over a digital platform while learning how to homeschool her own two children and cajole them into cleaning their rooms. When she’s not teaching #allthethings to her progeny or responding to hundreds of student emails, she tries to get outside and play in nature. Summer also writes songs on her guitar, belly dances, and acts in local theater. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Motherwell Magazine, Lowestoft Chronicle, Third Wednesday, Hellebore, and Alaska Women Speak. She is a winner of the Alaska Statewide Poetry Contest and a recipient of the Ukiyoto Publishing Best Global Blogs of 2019 award. You can visit her work at prosegarden.blog.