The other time reaches me here, mirroring

tribal things I knew. Catkins quiver

on wet pavement — fish wavering

near the surface. The cold water ignited by their light.


Mist is thrown over the skyline

catching pigeons in its breath– a net cast over the shoreline

trapping what clings to the morning tide. The sea’s after birth.


And blanched leaves hang on the palm branch

slanting downwards in the wind — white fringe

falling over the edge of a wedding boot — while the girl

refuses to wear her ceremonious shoe. Its fit

too close and narrow. The vulnerable deer

felt in its sole; but unlike the deer


when the other time shadows me, I can’t run

back into hiding. It’s already there, the wild

landscaped in my bones.




  1. “It’s already there, the wild

    landscaped in my bones.”


    I was held captive by the imagery and energy from the very beginning.
    It was those awesome last lines that really rattled my bones. There is
    such gentle power in them, like a half doe/half human feeling both
    trapped and free at the same time. I love the play on sole. It works
    both ways. The whole poem rings with feral grace.

    Love this!


    Liked by 1 person

  2. Dear Sarah

    As always your kind words and continual interest toward my poetry is so deeply cherished! Thank you again, for taking the time to share your thoughts and perspective. It matters and keeps me inspired and confident in my writing.

    Again, thank you so much!
    God Bless you and yours,


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