Psalm with Pocket Stone and Door Key
I headache, I dry throat, I shallow breathe,
my Witness, my Refuge, I am
one of you, locked in night smell
I go back over my footprints, comb grass
into comfort with my hands. I distort—
see eyes and mouths, spread & twist
bodies worn inside out.
Walls weep and floors waver.
I call myself
Scatter Moon, Brainling.
Look, see the exhaustion
of nails, unable to repent clawing.
Once primroses grew from my fingers.
Ellen Devlin is the author of chapbooks Rita and Heavenly Bodies at the MET, both published by Cervena Barva Press. Her recent journal publications include: Beyond Words, 2023, Muleskinner Journal, 2023, Rock Paper, Poem, 2023, Westchester Review, 2023 She lives in Irvington, New York.
Amethyst Review 