Eastward – a poem by Caroline Liberatore

Eastward


Do you remember the fence?
And the tucked jungle 
Spreading its phalanges over 
And under, ample.

It was a wilder country,
Nourished land, neon pharmacy,
A perpetual ampersand
Implying both you and I. 

You sliced into the thicket
Siphoning a sliver of space, endless
Groveling across gravel bent
Eastward. 

Oh, dear epidermis and dirt
Ever rattling with Eden’s seizures
As its tectonics embed with tact
An epitaph. 

Here lie the entangled limbs – 
And here you lie with them
A tree stump without rings
Never here, not quite there. 

Caroline Liberatore is a poet and librarian from Northeast, Ohio. Her writing engages with interminglings of divine brilliance and day-to-day grit. Her poetry has appeared in publications such as Ekstasis Magazine, Solum Press, and Calla Press.