h o m e........
ease my way to the far side of the opal and lie above the ants, next to the roses,
of armor, a stone of diamond as well as quill. Fish emerge from black holes
with patience on the flagstone among roses , or the moon is so large it seems
A woman sends her child away for having a child and the man nearly drowns
the mother reveals the mother-of-pearl only to him? It is because the daughter
her shins, her ankles, in order to arrive before her father could notice. No one
No one will ever know summer woods had a playhouse in them with incan-
of invisible walls. It was the way she lived bounded only by the imagination
from the black earth? A numinous rise against which her soul stepped. What
coming. At night she wants to take a sharp scraper to the red peaks, scrape
of her feet with sandpaper, unwrinkled as a boat ramp or the side of a slice of
the ocean, is bitten by fish and emerges with a stone covered in diamonds
the only energy is love, it’s just that we can’t see it.) Last night, a bird sang at the window.
turned to the nightly. Within the same stanza, the lamp above my head,
in concert with nature; a daytime singer letting loose a line in the middle of
evergreen that wandered down from the north. Grizzlies have lumbered north
magnificent legs, furred and clawed, a pattern of ice floe and millions of rivers.
That’s what happens when one loses one’s home.
We were younger, we laughed
and fall into
desire ( Just thinking of it
When you ask, in sickness as in health, the readiness
BIO: Sawnie Morris won the Poetry Society of America Bogin Award (2010) and a New Mexico Book Award (2007). Her prose about poetry has appeared in The Kenyon Review, Contemporary Literary Criticism, and Boston Review. She is Book Review & Essay Editor for Taos Journal of International Poetry & Art.
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