Home of the Hermitess

Alyx Chandler


learning to leave


peels back a part of yourself


like a woodpecker       holing trees


I growl of rot


of honeycrisp apples  


too many for me to eat


the blunt edge of autumn        shadowing me


a core of sweet


I drink juice from a carton


skin apples in the evening


forget my face


there’s wellness in anchoring to a place


or so they tell me




Alyx Chandler is a writer from the South who received her MFA in poetry at the University of Montana, where she taught composition and poetry. She is a publicist for Poetry Northwest, a reader for Electric Literature and former poetry editor for CutBank. Her poetry can be found or is forthcoming in Cordella Magazine, Greensboro Review, SWWIM, Anatolios Magazine and elsewhere. Read more at alyxchandler.com.