Molly Kugel

flower postcard.jpg


Why do you keep returning,

revenant, reckless, and barefoot?

It is green and the greenest.

It is a good thing tried hard,

something other people doubted

of you or a child’s last call to his mother,

but this time she knows the way.

It is near again.

It is all the lost things:

the flower bracelet for your birthday,

dropped by the main line train station,

first dances on gravel, car radios

and open car doors and starlight

and moon’s light and light, dying and tender.

Look, everything is glowing:

the pachysandra, grape hyacinth,

leaves of maple tree, you had trouble

climbing and your mother will call you

for dinner soon, but for now

the backyard is quiet and your knees

are young and it will be summer now.

No one will question where the years

have gone—no one will

know the difference.



Molly Kugel

Molly Kugel is the author of the chapbook, The Forest of the Suburbs (Five Oaks 2015). Her poems have appeared most recently in CALYX, Mid-American Review, Boxcar Poetry Review, Subtropics, and Gold Wake Live. She is a PhD candidate in Literary Studies at the University of Denver.