I Imagine It Carrying My Blood to You

victoria nordlund

This fall is different
from last fall and the one before–
And you don’t deserve to appear

in this poem
that I want to will not text you.
I am here alone now on this bench–

A crow on a leaf-cramped bough subsongs a memory–
I almost miss the silver trail a slug expelled across the hot pavement–
I convince myself there is still worth

in the smudge left
from a moth’s wing,
in the gut

of the beetle
you might have skewered
today in your kitchen sink,

in the mosquito’s needle
that will enter your skin.


Victoria Nordlund’s poetry collection Binge Watching Winter on Mute was published by Main Street Rag in June 2019. She is a Best of the Net and 2020 Pushcart Prize Nominee, whose work has appeared in PANK Magazine, Rust+Moth, Pidgeonholes, and elsewhere. Visit her at VictoriaNordlund.com