Wednesday, May 17, 2017



When you fly away from me
Oh, how my heart stretches sore
With a sadness jogging solidly
In place
No wings to follow
All hands to wring and worry
But in a calmer heart I know
Your flight is fair
And when I see you go
My eyes snap longing photographs
With every blinking tear
To blur the margins
Of my solitude
And I turn softly to myself
In clipped responsible lament
No wings
No wings






Sara Mathews     May 2017



Monday, May 15, 2017



I am swallowed
By this day
Devoured in the grayness of it
The leaden drops
Of introspection
Weigh me to my bed
But not unhappily
More like a sleep
That overtakes me in a pleasant
Numbing of the brain
A buzzing of the atmosphere
A blurring of the need
To move
And my body quiets to the rhythm
Of submersing in the womb
I will abide here softly
Like a tiny leaf
I curl
And feed the ravenous hunger
Of the rain




Sara Mathews     May 2017

Friday, May 12, 2017



Grey like a pearl
Comes the morning
Washed up on the sand
Handled and worn
Turned over
And over
And over again
Polished and gleaming
With worry





Sara Mathews     May 2017

Thursday, April 27, 2017



But it’s after the rains
When things really happen
When the seams break open
Spilling forth
All that is pent up
When the ground swells
In uncontained revelry
Exploding with riotous voice
It’s after the rains
When the walls
Crumble in
And the very foundation of you
Slips back to mother earth
Only then
The true healing
The Spring of you
Can rise up greening
Beside the new rose
More vibrant than before
More alive
In boisterous ascent
With the wakening world




Sara Mathews     April 2017

Wednesday, April 26, 2017




I can see myself
On that sunny hill
Part of me
More than a shadow
Maybe a heartbeat dropped
In the twisted vine
The wild bramble
Caught to the hem
Of this long lost soul
A wisp of my breath
Still flutters the copper leaf
A trace of my step
Lingers soft
In the burnished pine
And I can hear myself
In the wooded glade
My whistle lives on
With the raucous jay
The notes suspended
All these days  
Waiting
Waiting for my return





Sara Mathews     April 2017

Photograph by Martha Andrews Donovan

Thursday, April 20, 2017



A wisp of broken morning
The stars still speak of night
The moon
A remnant memory
The clouds
A fleeting dream
And I
The solemn innocent
Bathed
In beginning light







Sara Mathews     April 2017

Thursday, March 23, 2017




I couldn’t sleep last night
With the fretful wind
Too close to my heart was she
Her indecisiveness I knew too well
The sudden fits
False starts
Headstrong gusts
They rattled at the brain
And shook my solid hideaway
Unleashing beasts of memory
I joined her rousting of the night
We beat our chests with savage strength
We howled and shoved and hurled the air
And spent the last
Of every little breath
Every unwept tear







Sara Mathews     March 2017