Winning Portrait Poems from the 2020 Annual Contest
Congratulations to the winning poets of the annual contest! This year Lee Ann Roripaugh judged the portrait category. She said there were so many wonderful poems she really enjoyed reading them all. Thank you to everyone who entered, and enjoy reading these poems.
First Place: "Morning Dew on Stone"
by Erika Saunders
The killdeer didn’t return this springto the rock bed where they’ve nestedfor several years, with speckled eggshiding in plain sight. Self-consciousof the charade, they would try to distractus with their broken-winged display.The killdeer didn’t return this springto chest puff and warning call to everywalked dog that walked by. For severalyears, with speckled eggs successfullyhatching, the neighbors would congregatediscussing the merits of such a high traffickednesting site. The killdeer didn’t returnthis spring when the rock bed thawed,and the neighbors were all busy holdingtheir breath. Attempting to keep outthe virus that hides in plain sight likemorning dew on stone. I barely noticedthat the killdeer didn’t return this springto drop their speckled eggs in the rockbed, like mottled tombstones, busy as I wasperfecting my own broken-winged display.Bio:Erika Saunders is the author of Limes and Compromise(Finishing Line Press, 2019). Her poetry has been includedin Cholla Needles, Watershed, The Red Wheelbarrow,Noble Gas Quarterly, Pasque Petals, Prairie Winds andOakwood Literary Magazine which awarded her the 2017 Anita Bahr Awardfor Outstanding Contributor. She lives in South Dakota with her husband and three children.
Second Place: "Lakota"
by Annette Gagliardi
Who knew the school auditorium would be (the place)where I found my hair in braids, where the rhythmic beatof the drums burned into my heart, where I found my soulin the jingling of the bells on the healing dresses,bouncing in the circle to the rhythm of the beat. The beaded work depicted scenes I had dreamed.I wondered why I never knew my heritageback at Red Iron Lake, back on the reservation—teepees and fire rings, venison and pheasant,fishing in Clear Lake under the glowing moon. The Black Hills forests, so full of pine treeswere hidden within the stretchedand tanned hide of the drum, waiting to tellthe tale of my life to me, to revealmy heritage in a heartbeat. Bio:Annette has poetry published or forthcomingin the Gideon Poetry Review, OWS Ink LLC,Dreamers Creative Writing Online, Down in the Dirt Online Magazine,the Moccasin, vol. LXXXI, the Poetic Bond VIII, ASPS Sandpiper,Dreamers Creative Writing Year 1 Anthology andUpon Waking: 58 Voices Speaking Out From The Shadow of Abuse.She teaches poetry at a nearby elementary school as a volunteer.She has won two national and four state awards for her poetry.
Third Place: "To the Pioneer Ancestors"
by Cindy Forsburg
Maybe it didn’t look like love.When the wind sliced through the gaps in the boardsand joined the murky darkness,the unknown outside the windows teasing your fearhowling, why? Why?When the sun scorched the year’s promise,a cruel mirage shimmering in the fields,sweltering your bright hopesand mocking, how? How?In a place too vastfor the mind to comprehend,in a life too closefor the heart to remain unguarded,you kept your head downand learned to stop askingthose questions. But still you braved the wild sky,forging the tall grasses,to create the future on the vast prairie.Babies were soothed, and gardens planted;schools built and church bells chimed,and the seeds of the presentwere planted.The will to stay alive is hopeand as long as there is life,that hope cultivates the tiny shootsof vision for a better life,sheltering the roots of love.Listen...the meadowlark sings again this spring,and this morning from the far horizona train calls into today,sounding yes. Yes. Bio:Cindy Forsburg has lived in South Dakota all her lifeand feels connected to the sky and the prairie.She lives in Sioux Falls with her husband.