Poetry by Tracy Sallows
Belongings dispersed and distributed / Are treasures in some other troves
Belongings dispersed and distributed / Are treasures in some other troves
Lately, the coffee has been strong, the friends / plentiful as maple keys spinning on the breeze
One hour a day I trade / an urban jungle for a garden / bed where compost soil rests
I remember coming out of the anesthesia, drifting back from wherever it is you go, back to consciousness. I looked at my mother and said “Now, will you tell me why we’re here?”
The scientist invited me to her work, greeted me / on the icy sidewalk to usher me past guards stomping
Longing for what it already had; yea, the rain / Should have replaced the air one-for-one,
I’m always whisked to midnight / by ugly wind.
I think, “It must be she, the tree, standing attentive ...
I suppose I have been this man, regardless of what can be said of me
The tree buds are swelling, and spring emerges