This poem pushes off from a riverbank,
disturbing wild geese
dozing in the current and is chased
by a crowd of thrashing,
hollering kids.
They want to hold it in sight
before it goes out into the tides,
in its trail an incision
into the water.
The waves like two
pages rising.
I walk on planks that crack
under my bones but carry them
to a path that turns
and loops to show that we only go as far
as metaphor. The day lies on the lawn.
Its landing in a town
on the other side of the earth.
Grace Lynn is an emerging painter who lives with a chronic illness. Her work explores the intersections between faith, the natural world, art, and the body. In her spare time, Grace enjoys listening to Bob Dylan, reading suspense novels, and investigating absurd angles of art history.
Image: photojock, morguefile.com
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Heavy Feather Review 