Kathleen Herrmann: California Poets Part 10, Three Poems

Kathleen Herrmann

April 2nd, 2026

California Poets: Part X

Kathleen Herrmann

Three Poems

Simple Gifts

Baby’s fingerprints on my glasses

Sourdough bread fresh and warm under breadbasket linen

Foghorn bellowing down the shrouded strait

Pendulous raindrops on my window as they cling, burst, streak

Simple gifts come

Green flash just after buttery sun melts away

Harmonics flying from plucked strings, ringing on air

Death throes of ebony bumblebee, furry legs reaching for one more step on cold concrete

Ocean wave thinning to transparent aqua curl just before the crack-boom

Simple gifts go

Your luminous soul fluttering about me like pastel petals in spring

Simple gifts complete us

Irreplaceable You

After the darkest hour, the first robin sings

Fluted melody snags my slumber, plays untamed and free

Breath rushes into every hollow

Slack muscles stretch, languid mind swims, sleeps’ amnesia lifts just

enough to feel you like a phantom limb

Irreplaceable You

The first robin leads chorus of brassy warblers

Bedcovers, dresser, blinds framed in morning light, white door are

bathed in color and texture

Relief floods every dark corner, like turning on the house lights and I rewind

yesterday

You walked toward me cradling something in the palm of your hand

I cracked open its soft shell

Milky fluid oozed, embryonic life flipped and flopped

We held the look between us

Bliss curls around my toes, ripples up my spine, washes over my belly,

flows behind the curve of my neck

I feel you like the first robin, calling me to sing

Irreplaceable You

Arrow

Arrow sprints down the alley, rifle slung over one shoulder, springs onto the bottom rung

of the ladder, scales it with one hand, and lands with a belly flop, combat crawling to the

edge

The wreckage of the latest mortar attack litters the plaza

Eyes scan high, low, side to side, forward and back, ears tune to a predatory frequency

Brain computes angles, body steels itself

Three soldiers in the crosshairs strike casual poses on the distant hilltop

Trigger finger relaxes as Arrow flashes back to that day in the country, flying over the

backroads in father’s car, wild and free

Target chosen

Aim for the heart, four chambers lub-dubbing

The soldier flails, back arches

Recalibrate for the second hit

No!

The bullet ricochets from the spot where she had been lying, warmed by her breasts

and belly

She bolts down an inside stairway, bursts into blinding sunlight, burning with hate for the

men on the hill

Father, I am a hunter, like you. I kill with my third eye and your weapon. Forgive me,

Father. This I must do.

Arrow tips her chin to the sky and draws a dotted line with her fingertip, wild and free

If only she could fly

Author Bio:

Kathleen Herrmann served as the Co-Poet Laureate for the City of Vallejo from 2024-2026. She has taught youth poetry workshops, hosted open mics, readings and ekphrastic events. She performs spoken word poetry and interviews local authors on OZCAT radio. She has been published in a variety of anthologies, and her first poetry collection, I Was There, Now I’m Here, Refugee Stories is in progress. Kathleen explores unexpected happenings, small moments, sacred spaces and the ongoing struggle for social justice. She believes in the power of poetry to make real change in the world.