Seven years ago
I lived in the mist and
rain of the Olympic
Peninsula to walk where
wild things walked and lay
upon the moss though a
spider sunk into my soft
stomach. It only hurt
momentarily, and
regardless, it is
never safe to
be where it seems
safest, where
lightning
would never touch,
waves, could never crash
in the long
dark of winter-
never the crackling cold
the moment-stilled
heart though
days pass.
Truth is my hair
has been standing on end
since I was born
from the shock
but
I comb it smooth
and lay across
another’s shoulder
like a cloak
and walking again into the quiet
of the Cascades or the Hoh
maybe
I will find a big,
black bear and not
be reminded how
any moment
the sky may fall
like hers did
unexpected
and violent,
maybe
she was afraid,
I keep wondering.
I, am sharp flint
of ebon eye facing bear, am
rock of trembling, St. Helens/
could blow could sleep
instead, for awhile peaceful
as flowers grow bright
upon the back. I
think of my tree that is
only memory now,
how Magdalena
strong and twisted
could lean into the cold
and wild storms, how
memory is
the willowy heart/
a captured
softness to put
in a box with her
gray eyes and
my father’s
calloused hands.
Published by Stephanie McManus
Poetry described as whimsical, daring and perceptive: my writing tends to reflect on life experience and human nature. I come from a humanist point-of-view with influences from non-theistic Christian and Buddhist philosophy.
http://ehlersdanloscontemplations.wordpress.com/ - a support to others living with chronic illness and Ehlers-danlos Syndrome.
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In Due Proportion 