Poetry by Suzy Harris
Every wet leaf underfoot
gives a little sigh. Sounds like
squish squish. And every
almost bare branch bends down
in supplication. December
begins quietly, not yet wanting
to slam the door on the old year.
We have four more weeks
to finish the unfinished,
care for the untended,
seek the sublime. Each day
unfolds like the first paragraph
of a new story. We don’t know
how it ends.
Suzy Harris lives in Portland, Oregon. Her poems have appeared in Clackamas Literary Review, Willawaw Journal, and Wild Greens, among other journals and anthologies. Her chapbook Listening in the Dark, about hearing loss and learning to hear again with cochlear implants, was published by The Poetry Box in February 2023.
