Gabriella Klein

We Used to Have Storms
We used to have lightning that blinded the eye
We used to have dragons
The train urges through graffiti dream fields
I want to come of age she says and fly
Through the stars the rail yards the sandpiles
No more punishment no more reward
We used to have cyclones that upturned mountains
I watched a blaze race itself up the hillside stopping traffic
Nor will I lead nor will I follow
To observe without judgment is a high form intelligence
We used to have fires that burned for years.
Cosmology
Worried notes,
a jarred chord progression,
January warmer
than expected.
I unbutton my coat.
Understanding the origin
understands the end,
immaculate like a proton.
I was listening
for a way out of sadness.
Jagged foothills,
of what
are you the center?
The World in Hand
Let my prayers be, if not answered,
then at least not questioned.
Voice of god in the canyon,
hint of fire in the air.
Be brave for the masses,
wish beyond limit
for the violence to end.
Of what use is my good heart,
if we can’t agree about this,
then what, what then?
Gabriella Klein is a poet, editor, grant writer, fiduciary, wife and mother. Her collection of poems, Land Sparing (Nightboat Books) won the Nightboat Poetry Prize and was a finalist for the California Book Award. Gabriella did her undergraduate studies at Wesleyan University and received her MFA in Poetry from Vermont College.