Ann Christine Tabaka was nominated for the 2017 Pushcart Prize in Poetry. She is the winner of Spillwords Press 2020 Publication of the Year, her bio is featured in the “Who’s Who of Emerging Writers 2020 and 2021,” published by Sweetycat Press. She is the author of 15 poetry books. lives in Delaware, USA. She loves gardening and cooking. Chris lives with her husband and four cats. Her most recent credits are: Sparks of Calliope; The Closed Eye Open, Poetic Sun, Tangled Locks Journal, Wild Roof Journal, The American Writers Review, The Scribe Magazine, The Phoenix, Burningword Literary Journal, Muddy River Poetry Review, The Silver Blade, Pomona Valley Review, West Texas Literary Review, The Hungry Chimera, Sheila-Na-Gig, Fourth & Sycamore.*(a complete list of publications is available upon request)
I Captured the Sun
Sunset on the mountain was a part of the soup. A whirlwind of texture, a cacophony of hue. I found you standing there, a lone bluebonnet among a field of columbine, staring off across a meadow of desire. I reached past longing, to hold sweet release. You were my salvation. Climbing higher, I captured the sun, and was consumed in your flames.
the cold calls out / senses awaken sunlight dances on frosty air winter / magical season / creeps in all is white / bright / pure essence a time to rest and restore putting aside all busyness burrowing in / cozy placement warm fire & comforter soothe body as well as soul sparkling dreams drift from dull gray sky teardrops fall from dying blossoms trees fold their arms in submission we walk away from summer’s warmth and embrace a monochromic world time to sleep / pray /contemplate as we wait earth’s eternal transition
Time to Let Go
waiting for the sun to shine waiting for leaves to fall seasons play tag with the earth bees chase butterflies off fading blossoms I chase time from my front door ages pass in a blur of truth I cannot hold on to summer it slips through the garden on a breeze life withers with the seasons windows close to the chill a spark of autumn in the air tells me … it is time to let go