Poetry by Elizabeth Mercurio

                      Jeff Ruane CC

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Counting Buddhas

After dawn the light splits
through palms like wisps of mist that
smoke the star jasmine. The Buddha sits
ordered calm by the breeze
and the honeymoon songs
of starlings.
I count all of the Buddhas in the garden.
Twenty-five to quiet me.  
There is no one to protect us.

No one saves us but ourselves

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​Courage begins

on a wing of words,
a winding walk 
along the narrow herb scented path.
Cherry blossoms offer a pale square of heaven.
A circus of butterflies burst into your name. 
The tender creek calls you.
Don’t torture yourself.
Never mind the uncertain future, the hidden meanings of things,
Right now, your feet are cold in this creek
And there are still lilacs in the back yard.

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Elizabeth Mercurio earned an MFA in poetry from The Solstice Low-Residency Program of Pine Manor College. Her work has appeared in Third Point Press, Philadelphia Stories, The Skinny Poetry Journal, The Literary Nest, Fledgling Rag, Martin Lake Journal, and the Lily Poetry Review. She was nominated for a Best of the Net nomination and was the 2016 recipient of The Sharon Olds Fellowship for Poetry. Her chapbook, Doll is currently available from Lily Poetry Review Books.
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