elsa louise von schreiber

Madeira Memories

On that long-ago December
morning, a mist lay draped over

Ohio’s hillsides, a great white
veil shrouding magnificence.

From under the lifted mist,
a glorious vision emergent: God,

the pointillist, stippling across
the canvas of the wide, wide world.

Cincinnati Fantasy
(for D. and me)

There are times when
I forget how
smart you are, you
who dazzle me
with your youth, still
so young. I hear
your voice and then
remember all
the reasons why
I like you; and
it reminds me
what it was like

to be so young.
So, the next time
fireworks chase
across the sky,
let’s drive over
to the St. Paul’s
church in Newport,
KY. All my
musician friends
and you and I
will climb straight up
on the roof; we

shall have the best
view Queen City
can give. And I
promise I shall
still see you; how
could I not? You,
who so remind
me; yes, I have
not forgotten
what it was like
and just how good
it felt to be.

Elsa Louise von Schreiber spent her formative years in the capital city of California. She now makes her home in the suburbs of Washington D.C., another capital city in which she manages to carve out a quietly contented existence. You can see some of her other poetry at The Flea or Glass Seed Annual, and visit her at https://profiles.google.com/die.schreiberin.

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