Linda Umans

If the speckled starling in his harvesting could speak he'd recommend the straw.
He gathers and flies toward the nesting site in his haste to split end the straw.
Nearing the end of a longish life one appreciates, sometimes regrets.
On an eternal quest for that needle you regularly, consistently upend the straw.
Some, not I, take for granted common, ubiquitous, and the like.
For supporting mules, horses, barn cats I commend the straw.
Souls are drawn to Monet's haystacks in their various delights.
If one should happen to ignite you would transcend the straw.
Adore the berry blonde and enjoy the sweet sips through.
Bring a blanket for your country nap and you'd offend the straw.
Theater people perform with bats and birds on buzzy summer nights.
Greet the hats bobbing into song-and-dance bliss. Extend the straw.
For many years now Lin has grasped at and the shortest has drawn.
Thinks she's reached the peaks now. She comprehends the straw.


LINDA UMANS enjoyed a long teaching career in the New York City public schools. She is a native of Manhattan where she lives, studies, writes. Recent publications include poems in qarrtsiluni,, The Broome Street Review, Theodate, DIALOGIST, Switched-on Gutenberg, Composite {Arts Magazine}, Spillway, Spiral Orb, A Narrow Fellow, The Ghazal Page, and pieces in Mr. Beller's Neighborhood. She can be found on Twitter as linhelen (@SednaLin).