In a Green Veil Folded
Hollowed by the smallest loss
in a forest upturned by hooves,
borrowed shine will blink
beeswax light into your body.
This is how it happens—
a votive that doesn’t know
it’s a prayer will ache
its way into your throat.
Where fawns hide, your eyes
will blossom. Your bones will branch.
You will be sweet sponge moss,
the click of silver beetles.
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
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