woodsman
 

you were born out of the river,
not stone but a mix of water and light
brought deep into tremor - the last
to be named. by placing you in my arms
I am recollecting air: my lovely and slow death
arranged in an empire of moths and fiber.

calling you brings creatures: the bent wings
of bats, red fox, timber wolf. their illumine eyes
line trees. they hold sound under the autumn.
my mute, my timid, I sing to you. I stroke
my cold hands to comfort the roots of my
own growing. I know there is no history for you.

moving us from shadow, a raven
jumps from a branch - a barn door swings shut
to enclose those lovers who can hold
the glow of earth against their skin.
I imagine we are them before
moving toward your certain emptiness.  

__________________________________________________________

Aleah Sato is the author of the poetry collection Badlands and the forthcoming Stillborn Wilderness (Pooka Press 2007). Her work has appeared in Nthposition, Adirondack Review, juked, Argotist, Just West of Athens, Blue Fifth Review, Shadowtrain and Eclectica, among others. This past August, her collaboration with photographer Elizabeth Siegfried, entitled Extinct, was shown at the G+ Galleries in Toronto. She can be reached through her website: www.aleahsato.com.
 

__________________________________________________________

next |  winter 2008 | 
books and chapbooks from authors in this issue |  kaleidowhirl