Let the soil dry. Let the skin dry. Let the skin of the earth dry. \\ What we whispered, all of us.
A fidelity: the serviceberry to cedar waxwings, orioles
Can it migrate? Where will it go?
Let soil and skin flake. Shape of flat shells.
Let the horizon be broken only by the silhouette of stones.
Let the stones be alive. Let the stones become sacred. Let the stones stay alive. A world
misspent. misshapen.
blur. blister. blot of failure.
are we even faithful to our sorrow? how arid our eyes?
already enflamed, the fidelity of winter
Let simple strategy fail
Let the body not mind its own slow erasure
Let body after body restore grief’s vision, continuous/open at the edge of grace
as our suffering gets greater, so must our love
Let the outwitting begin
Note: “as our suffering gets greater, so must our love,” a quote by Pam Houston
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Suzanne Swanson is a retired perinatal psychologist and author of House of Music and What Other Worlds: Postpartum Poems. Winner of the Loft Mentor Series, Suzanne helped to found Laurel Poetry Collective. Recent poems have appeared in EcoTheo Review, Terrain.org, The Hopper and West Trade Review. In 2022, she co-edited the chapbook, All You Need Is One Avocado. Her work has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Suzanne is happiest near big water.
