Contact Tracing by Vicki Holmsten

Contact Tracing

The hawk rides the thermals
above the sandy trail
where a horned toad bakes in the spring sunshine
under the blooming yucca cactus
across the trail from the red globe mallow in bloom.
A bit farther down, paw prints from the fox.
When your boot crunches on the trail
between the yucca and the globe mallow
next to the fox prints,
you have
touched the hawk,
so soar and play in the high breeze
on this bright blue April day.

–Vicki Holmsten
Farmington, New Mexico
Earth Day, April 2020

The poet notes “In response to your invitation earlier this month to join the Pop Up Poetry Party, I send this along.

This is my Earth Day Poem–Contact Tracing– that I planted on a trail in Farmington, New Mexico. All paper, no plastic. Maybe the wind will get it, or better yet, the fox.”

Poetry Pop Up Party by Miriam Sagan

Snip, snap, snout
This tale’s told out

This bridge over the acequia
was once a wobbly wooden plank
but now the mayor has cut the ribbon
although some still camp
by the tunnel
and bundled on benches in the weeds.

As a child
I loved the tale of Billy Goat Gruff
who gored the troll
from his lair
beneath the bridge.
And now you, pilgrim,
wish to cross
from one place
to another
often a dangerous enterprise
so pay no toll
but the courage you hold in your hand.

Poetry Pop Up Party from Jackie Drishner

Jackie Dishner: I stuck a dozen of my poems in bushes and on tree limbs around my neighborhood. Hopefully, they’ll make some people a little more inspired than they were before their walk.




I made sure to include one in front of my pop-up art gallery at home. The bougainvillea is a little dry, so I figured it could could use a little something.




Pop-Up Poetry Poetry with Lucy Moore

Last summer they wanted
To build a fort.
Why, I asked.
Pause.
To see who’s coming.
More pause.
To stay safe.
Each with an answer.

We found a place for the fort,
On top of our ramada.
Sawing, hammering, sanding
Happily in the summer air.

This morning
I climbed up the ladder
And saw the horizon
Was it coming?
Was I safe?

There was nothing to see.
Same trees, same road,
same ravens wheeling in the blue sky.

–Lucy Moore, March 28, 2020

Note from the author:

I posted it secretly without Roberto knowing what I was doing. He went out back to dump the compost and saw it.

“I saw what you did. Is it a poem?” (did not boost my confidence)

“Yes. It’s a pop up poem in a public place, although probably no one will see it except you since no one comes into our yard these days.”

“I like it.” (wow 100% approval rating!)

Pop Up Poetry Party by Nina Bjornsson

Night rising, stealing
away from winter.
The closed, blue
Atlantic Ocean and
I am silent.
It’s always different
awakening to the
razor sky, silent
sheep, soft earth,
the me of
bone and moon.

The author says–This poem came about because I was missing the colors of Iceland in this brown landscape. It was fun to do and hang in a tree in my neighborhood.