to the cherry trees on state street*

2023 Merit Award
By Mackenzie Elizabeth Whitson

yes to the crinkle
nose, budding spring omen
yes even the cough
reminds the body
of April sun cherry
branches scooping sunlight
peeping around cloud cover
tree shadows pocked
sidewalks the night before
were blossom-studded
runways combat boots
party shoes tripping
crushing pink blossoms
to dust & again, yes
they bloom again, yes
over the same wind-tunnel we call
“block” dusting leaves down every
gutter train-track brick & mortar
again, yes, an omen
that pleases an omen
of gratitude, yes, a pink
coat for those without
again, yes, another try
another breath, again, yes,
finally, warmth.

*Copyright © 2023 by Mackenzie Elizabeth Whitson. Broadside illustrated by Kimberly Wulfestieg.

(untitled)*

2023 Merit Award
By Meleah Sidhu, 6th grade

We are best friends and we love each other,
We spent all day together laughing too.
We email at midnight, don’t tell mother.
You get between us; you are black and blue.

We can trust each other with everything,
We never bail on one or the other.
Our friendship is much thicker than a string.
We love each other more than our brother.

We are together through the day and night,
Why would we ever leave each other’s side?
We are there for them no matter the fight.
We were there for her whenever she cried.

Whenever they were alone, we could come,
We will hug each other ‘till we are numb.

*Copyright © 2023 by Meleah Sidhu. Broadside illustrated by Kimberly Wulfestieg.

color of my shrinky-dink earrings*

2023 Merit Award
By Sophie Hall

the air in a baby penguin’s first breath. related
to temperature, but not, necessarily,
harshly.
what my younger sister once found most beautiful
but the color that, if there were options
would likely go to my brother. irises —
the ones bending in the front yard
toward the roadkill, and the ones i share
with my father.
notebook lines bleeding
under spilled water,
still
water.

a flavor of raspberry that i love, but
doesn’t really exist

*Copyright © 2023 by Sophie Hall. Broadside illustrated by Kimberly Wulfestieg.

these old shoes*

2023 Merit Award
by Luther Allen

the color of beat up.
the look of too many miles, the smell of bruised earth.
soles ground down, rogue molecules of rubber
choking the coho now
and five hundred years from now.

still neat in the eyelets
a suture over a wounded tongue
the laces trailing off
like worn, ragged tears.

almost useless now, their structure gutted,
the old shoes have stayed in the closet for months.
like a lover i don’t have the heart to abandon

because i am the places they have been.
i am almost as tired as they are
and i have done my own damage
but i am not ready to leave.

it is strange that in their fatigue and coming apart
they seem gentle and perfect.
criteria for the next pair, perhaps my last.
gentle.               and perfect.
i am not ready.

*Copyright © 2023 by Luther Allen. Broadside illustrated by Kimberly Wulfestieg.

About the poet
Luther Allen writes poems from the flank of Sumas Mountain, Washington. He co-facilitates the SpeakEasy reading series, is co-editor of Noisy Water: Poetry from Whatcom County, Washington, and is author of a collection of 365 poems, The View from Lummi Island, available at http://othermindpress.wordpress.com. His work is included in numerous journals and anthologies, including WA 129; Refugium, Poems for the Pacific; For Love of Orcas; Washington Poetic Routes; Solstice: Light & Dark of the Salish Sea; The Madrona Project – Human Communities in Wild Places and Art in a Public Voice; and Sing the Salmon Home. His short story “The Stilled Ring” was finalist in an annual fiction contest at terrain.org. He views writing as his spiritual practice.

Angels Everywhere*

2022 Merit Award
By Luci Shaw

Some days I notice angels everywhere,
light glancing through windows, flaring
through paneled glass as if it were air.
A human ear shaped like a wing,
curiously curving to admit the flare
of sound, hints to me of beings listening
to my listening, even when I sing.

Then there’s a vagrant cloud, glistening.
Often in the blue heaven a trail
of light from a plane to me appears
as a celestial body playing up there
beyond my grasping. Or, the tail-
light of a highway truck sends a spark
like some twinkly being in the dark
trailing her winking robe in sight
of stationary watchers. Once, daylight,

and a sudden, surprising view,

when over the marsh a winged flight
invites a vision — Gabriel, or a Great Blue?

More often, through my night’s skylight

asterisks multiply like silver sand and, near to far,
I link my self again, each night, with Oh!
One bright, angelic, particular star.

*Copyright © 2022 by Luci Shaw. Broadside illustrated by Kimberly Wulfestieg.

NOTE: a chapbook of the 2022 Sue C. Boynton Poetry Contest winning poems, including this one, is available at Village Books in Bellingham. All sales profits benefit the annual contest.

Finally Peace*

2022 Merit Award
By Dylan Jacobs

I woke up in my king-sized bed
It was the morning of my father’s funeral
I was happy though
Almost ecstatic to have him finally gone
Nothing dragging me down
No more 3 am calls high on heroin
No more midnight break-ins looking for money
No more bail payments
I grab my phone and call my older brother
He answers on the 5th ring
There is complete silence for awhile
As if we both want to say it, but don’t
I hang up the phone
Now I know I’m not alone
He’s truly glad too
No grief
No guilt
No regret

*Copyright © 2022 by Dylan Jacobs. Broadside illustrated by Kimberly Wulfestieg.

NOTE: a chapbook of the 2022 Sue C. Boynton Poetry Contest winning poems, including this one, is available at Village Books in Bellingham. All sales profits benefit the annual contest.

Mother*

2022 Merit Award
By Rusty Bower

The sun emanates confounding energy
Unconditional radiation for the duration of its time

It bears perpetual fusion and electromagnetic rupture
yet remains the singular source of luminance and life

while the earth remains among its star it is nurtured
Bonded by immense gravity

Through millennia or a moment
Evolution and complexity arise

So
I suppose mother
You are like the sun

*Copyright © 2022 by Rusty Bower. Broadside illustrated by Kimberly Wulfestieg.

Poet’s bio: Rusty Bower is 17 years old and in the eleventh grade at Sehome High School in Bellingham. This is Rusty’s first poem, completed for a project in creative writing class for Mother’s Day. “The poem is about how much my mom does for me despite her struggles.”

NOTE: a chapbook of the 2022 Sue C. Boynton Poetry Contest winning poems, including this one, is available at Village Books in Bellingham. All sales profits benefit the annual contest.

After the Flood*

2022 Walk Award
By Leslie Wharton

Finally clean
she still smells mud       so moves to higher ground
the one picture of her papa       dries rippled

tears pool       stranded salmon spawn       in fields
time divides into       before and after       but never

ever after       she stockpiles food        up high
gathers kindness       counts her blessings

watches weather       longs to love the river again
bogged down       by newly formed tenderness

she can no longer       sweep spiderwebs       shoo flickers
she gently       places       shells       back to sea

by summer       she’ll return       to the Nooksack
where gravel bars wash away       new beds rest

beneath the highwater mark       exposed sapling roots
hold fast       in undercurrents of fear       hope floats

*Copyright © 2022 by Leslie Wharton. Broadside illustrated by Kimberly Wulfestieg.

Poet’s bio:
Leslie Wharton works as a caregiver for the elderly, who inspire and listen to her poetry. Her efforts to share poetry with a broader community include gathering poets for a Dress Poetry Show at Allied Arts Gallery, the Bellingham Women’s March, and other public events. Colorful broadside posters of Leslie’s poems are available for display in restaurants and galleries. Her first poetry collection, She Votes, was published in late 2022. “This poem started as an exploration of hope and then became a poem about our community’s recent flood.” When Leslie decided to donate her Walk Award plaque to the Sumas Library, she discovered, sadly, that the library was destroyed in November’s flood. Having lost her home to wildfire, she understands how disaster changes a survivor.

Cats*

2022 Walk Award
By Hayley Van Ness

Crazy cute creative creatures
Are awesome active acrobats
Tiny tame tigers
Sneaky sly silly stretchers

*Copyright © 2022 by Hayley Van Ness. Broadside illustrated by Kimberly Wulfestieg.

Poet’s bio:
Hayley Van Ness is 8 years old and likes cats. She has two of them!

NOTE: a chapbook of the 2022 Sue C. Boynton Poetry Contest winning poems, including this one, is available at Village Books in Bellingham. All sales profits benefit the annual contest.

words from a cloud*

2022 Walk Award
By Matthew Stuckey

“…all the flowers are forms of water.
the sun reminds them through a white cloud…”
W.S. Merwin

you think my body is light
as air but I am
the weight of water
heavy as stones
above your head

I am water that
moves in oceans above you
I am a form of river and
ancient glacier shining

the pink cherry blossoms are
also forms of water
the egret in the light
an old tortoise hiding

and in the night
your words of despair as well

*Copyright © 2022 by Matthew Stuckey. Broadside illustrated by Kimberly Wulfestieg.

Poet’s bio:
Matthew Stuckey lives with his wonderful wife in Bellingham, Washington, where he practices acupuncture and wanders around in the mountains. This is his first published poem and will hopefully not be his last. The cloudy PNW and W.S. Merwin’s poem “Rain Light” inspired the poem “words from a cloud.”

NOTE: a chapbook of the 2022 Sue C. Boynton Poetry Contest winning poems, including this one, is available at Village Books in Bellingham. All sales profits benefit the annual contest.