Blueprints of a Graveyard

Margaret Marcum


blue light beams from earth,
the soil is drenched in blueprints

graveyard of circular chords
croak ancestors’ chuckle

false hands of a healer
make stone out of flower

we are drowning our youth
in a plastic fountain unfilled

this field is filled with children
vacant leaves tangled with so much

potential, moonlight
distilled in snow

as hoary as the face




Margaret Marcum lives in Delray Beach with her three cats, Angel, Adam, and Alice. She recently graduated from the MFA program in creative writing at Florida Atlantic University. Her literary interests include ecofeminism and healing the collective through personal narrative. Her poems have appeared in Amethyst Review, NonBinary Review, Scapegoat Review, October Hill Magazine, Writing in a Woman’s Voice, and Children, Churches, and Daddies, among others. She was a finalist for the 2021 Rash Award in Poetry sponsored by Broad River Review.