by Catherine Graham
How do I get home or when I get home
somewhere on the other side of here—
not an empty shell—I’m clear,
rational, each colour coming is not bone.
Seven, eight, nine…be strong
enough for second looks—the wear,
the tear, the centrepiece of anywhere,
the road to broken can’t be wrong.
Those little birds, it’s what they’re screaming now—
Be strong! The other side is near! Hatch
that second skin; sink further into feel.
Clouds are moving shells; they offer shadows.
Release the form to lure the verbal back.
It’s quiet. Now voice the lack. Your nest is here.
— from Juniper Volume 1, Issue 3