“…I’ve learned something about times like these, you have to grow big enough inside to hold both the loss and the hope.” —Anne Pancake, Strange as this Weather Has Been
The pattern of bird wings are brushed into the crisp top layer of snow by the woodpile; hurried lines, panic apparent even in impressions left behind; gazing out across sparkling fields, sun casting diamonds in every direction, my children sledding down the big hill by the old tobacco barn, their laughter and shouts echoing into valleys and up across all the ridges, coming right back, cacophonous and beautiful; but the world is shifting, humans have carved too much out of this earth and there is no way to put it back, creating panic as fresh and crisp as the air; will these fears be left behind like the wing prints of those birds taking flight, or will they look as pretty as images of feathers encrusted with jewels, just as impermanent as the snow they are written on; will anyone, anything see them and contemplate the meaning of all these hardships encased within all these joys.
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Amy Le Ann Richardson earned her MFA from Spalding University (‘09) and is the author of two poetry chapbooks: Make Believe Worlds We Built Together, Bottlecap Press 2023, and Who You Grow Into, Finishing Line Press 2024 and a forthcoming full collection: Out of Places, Pine Row Press, 2025. Her work is featured in multiple journals, including Pine Mountain Sand & Gravel and Still: the Journal. She lives and works on her farm in Carter County, KY.
