Monthly Archives: May 2013

Road Map by Rebecca Aronson

Leave a reply

Wind-rush, sky white, harbinger of eagles,
the tree tops enter realms and disappear
without me. Is there anything safer
than a speck? I am small as horizon’s
vanishing point. Witness to my self,
diminishing.  Nothing to calibrate
such unmapping, this ever-lasting lost.
Oh road trip, I am in the world for seeing.
Here was a man selling two apples
and a box of frozen venison. Here a rabbit
no one saw ushered babies into earth,
her tunneling the soft leaf-wet soil
inches from where you stood.
Here was a death and a meal.

—

Rebecca Aronson’s first book Creature, Creature won the Main-Traveled Press poetry book contest and was published in 2007. Her poems have appeared in Tin House, the Georgia Review, Cream City Review, Mas Tequila Review, Quarterly West, and others. She lives in Albuquerque, New Mexico, where she teaches writing and enjoys the mountains.

“Sudden” by Wendy Taylor Carlisle

3 Replies

Once the moon stopped seeing me
one to one cut her light from
between my thighs, I lost sleep,
tried on the word barren,
made jokes about how glad I was
to be done, to sweat at 3 am,
and hugged my children close,
examined the aging man

in my bed as if he had already
dismayed me with another woman.
Today, an older moon, witches’ crescent,
bobs over the oak, the dogwood.
I dance, a fool, under her weather eye
No longer one with one, a sudden singular I.

—

Wendy Taylor Carlisle lives in the Arkansas Ozarks and is the author of two books of poetry, Reading Berryman to the Dog and Discount Fireworks and two chapbooks. See more of her work on line at www.wendytaylorcarlisle.com