Are you lost? Come closer (the trees have dreams
that will seep into your pale skin) and rest

on moss softening this place you trespassed
because home is not home. A displaced queen

leaves a child alone. And you might redeem
what is lost by losing yourself, distress

leaks out by wandering, and branches press
you closer than arms ever could. You’ve seen

too much, been quiet as snakes that burrow
through roots, as still as owls before they drop—

but you can scream now. The leaf floor shudders
and the trees cling to you with sap, marrow

from their wooden hearts. The wind will adopt
your broken name, bury grief in mutters.

Joy Clark

 

Joy Clark recently graduated with a B.F.A. in Creative Writing from Stephen F. Austin State University in Nacogdoches, Texas, where she is a transient resident. Her flash fiction has recently appeared in Juked and Oblong.

Artwork: Jeannie Nadja
Website: http://www.jeannienadjastudios.com/

29 Jun This entry was published on June 29, 2015 at 12:03 am and is filed under 13 (June 2015), Archive, Poetry. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.