Denizen
By Danielle Hayden
What led me to this land was love,
but far more rooted me:
sounds of the Sound, salmons' swim,
strolls on sidewalks rain-soaked & coffee-stained
sweet melodies of blending:
dialects drifting past my ear,
disparate charms of mountaintop and marketplace.
ferries that comb through water,
Dawn's rays dripping like candle wax
the regal bow of a blue heron
the hummingbird's blur a soft percussion
tulips raised by rain later renege their promise of bloom.
That peculiar beauty of ephemera
The familiar ache of transience
sunsets, soft. Quiet as
the kiss of curtains closing
Danielle Hayden is a multi-genre writer and a current Resident at the Seattle Public Library. She also teaches with Golf Pencil group, which serves incarcerated women, and through the Writers in the Schools (WITS) program. Danielle was a 2022 Jack Straw Writer, received a literary Grant for Artists' Progress Award from Artist Trust, and was granted fellowships from Anaphora Arts and the Martha's Vineyard Institute for Creative Writing. Danielle lives in Bothell with her family.