Selected Poetry by J. Federle

Photo Source: Pixabay

Learning to Swim

In the white sun, we chased coins

tossed by our parents into the pool.

Nickels and dimes under the cool water

glittered like glass, like praise, tempting us: 

hold your breath just a little longer.

A young man tugs his tight gray tie,

riding the elevator to a small desk 

in his father’s company. A woman

scrubs a plate, staring out her 

kitchen window as an infant wails.

They’re diving again. Chasing coins.

Both of them, too deep, lungs burning.

How Can I Be Contained

Striped snake coiled

inside my terracotta pot, 

you have eyes 

as green as my own.

If my belly were clay 

and you were my soul,

would my throat 

be wide enough

to let you out? 

You could stay instead,

bask under the glow

of my beating heart,

and I would swallow 

what is good for you.

Fermented apples. Frog song

at night. Lullabies like milk 

sweetened in a saucepan.

You flick your tongue.

Scent the humid air 

between our bodies.

Already, like a true soul,

you are unbraiding yourself 

in preparation to leave.

J. Federle (@JFederleWrites) is the odd author behind the Author-Oddity Newsletter. A wandering lover of ghost stories and folktales, she left Kentucky to study poetry in England. Now she lives with her husband and cow-colored dog in Peru, where she misses thunderstorms but loves the ocean. Her work has appeared in The Saturday Evening Post, The Threepenny Review, and the NoSleep Podcast.