A Subtle Art – a poem by Natasha Bredle

A Subtle Art

The air took me quietly, a small
solar flare, found penchant 
misnomer, misguidance guiding me 
to the footfall where I lay softly 
at the feet of everything, which
includes nothing. No sacrament, 
no starry-eyed gaze, just wist and 
for a moment, peace. I stared 
and decided this was poetry,
the leaving and the returning and 
every inch of lichen growing beside
my window, pleading here with
quiet sighs and shadows. So write.
So speak it with your breath and 
record it in the asterisks, the meadow 
at half-moon. The forgetting, the
picture frame preservation. My eyes 
when they see the stars. Mother 
watching the ceiling at midnight,
preacher trying to feel God, 
horizon beckoning us to elsewhere.
If everything and nothing is home, 
then I belong nowhere but here, 
breathing inside and outside, 
uncertain and so very sure. 

Natasha Bredle is an emerging writer based in Ohio. She writes about what she thinks about, which is really too much for her poor brain. You can find her work in Aster Lit, Trouvaille Review, and Full House Lit, to name a few.

1 Comment

  1. babytope says:

    Natasha, I really admired the fine literary work you called “A Subtle Art.” I especially liked, “No starry eyed gaze, just for a moment, peace.” I conside you to be an “emerged” poet. Nice job. bo;;


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