Embedded in my being is the rhythm of the Rouge Plant,
Snap, drill, bang, clang,
Move to the next car, the next task.
As we age, I look for you in the landscape,
in the small houses that sheltered us whole.
We shed the decay, rot, and steel
that intersect our lives,
that bruise the terrain of our bodies.
Strip down and reveal,
hidden under scrap metal and parking lots,
there are trees, life,
and the river that runs through it all.
—
Laura Younger resides in Alexandria, VA, and engages with her love of wordplay at every opportunity. Her poetry has appeared in Artemis Journal, Kakalak, North Carolina Poetry Society’s Pinesong, The Poetry Society of Virginia Centennial Anthology and various anthologies from Old Mountain Press.
