Poetry by Kristen Kaiser
Italy in August
On that day we rode bikes through fields in Vimercate, I thought I might love you. It could have been the sunflowers. Do you remember how thousands of yellow fingers trembled, their longing for the ambrosial curl of rolled hayfields across the road making it hard to balance between their pungent separation? Or maybe the hum of some insect, punctuated only by the borrowed Raleigh's soprano creak, woven basket holding the empty bottle of Brunello, that red t-shirt you had worn since Tuesday. I wanted to fall off and press you down into warm earth, your salty arm against my tongue- your eyes closed against that languid, cobalt sky.
Kristen Kaiser is a writer born and raised on a small island off the coast of New Jersey. She currently resides in Colorado with her husband, her 21-year-old, neurodivergent triplet sons, and their somewhat indifferent corgi/terrier mix, Simon. Kristen works as a consultant and advisor for organizations that support the autism community both nationally and internationally. She received a BA in English from UC Santa Barbara, an MLA in English Literature from Harvard University, and a Master of Public Health from the University of Colorado Anschutz Medical Campus. Kristen writes across genres, but her first love is poetry. She was published in the anthology Split Verse, Poems to Heal Your Heart. She is currently working on her forthcoming novel, The Indigo Frequency.