of my body, reminding me
that there are many joys
in beholding and being held.
Canola’s cheerful yellow
seen from the train’s window
as I traveled from Madrid to Cuenca—
Pimientos de padrón
blistered in a pan—
My spouse earnestly
kissing me late at night—
Tea brewing in a small pot. I dream
that soon I will set my cup again
on a table surrounded by friends—
Yesterday, for the first time
in many years, I turned
a cartwheel on damp grass.
I drank in dew and ozone,
light like a child—
braced on my father’s shoulders,
bare feet dangling into happiness.
Ray Ball
Ray Ball currently lives on the land of the Dena’ina, where she works as a history professor at the University of Alaska Anchorage. She is the author of four books, including the chapbooks Tithe of Salt (Louisiana Literature, 2019) and Lararium (Variant Lit, 2020). Her poems and fiction have appeared in numerous journals, including descant, Glass, Orange Blossom Review, and X-R-A-Y and have received multiple nominations for Pushcart and has been a Best of the Net finalist. She is an associate editor at Coffin Bell and an assistant editor at Juke Joint. You can find her on Twitter @ProfessorBall.
