2 Poems by Cindy Rinne



And when she left me, I got
into gardening. Cabbages, Anaheim’s,
and chocolate mint.

Daily I said

the rosary, fingered beads
looked like earth from space.
I tossed the photographs;

All, but one.



Dead Leaves

Empty branches reveal a hollow
nest. Body betrays. In the river
Mio tries to wash away her
memories Ink stays. Rice paper
wrinkles like mother’s hands.
One face – death. Opposite
face – resurrection.

Cindy Rinne creates art and writes in San Bernardino, CA. She brings myth to life in contemporary context. Cindy is the author of several books. She is a published translator and a founding member of PoetrIE, a literary community. Her poetry appeared or is forthcoming in Sea Foam Magazine, Blue Heron Review, Gulf Stream Literary Magazine, Driftwood Press, The Honest Ulsterman (Northern Ireland), The Whirlwind Review, Birds Piled Loosely, and others. www.fiberverse.com