In the Woods

Alyx Chandler


Does survival stay relevant


            or soften like a petal

            wet on your fingertip?


                                    I ring and ring, warbled.


Hermitess, my prayers


are like foxglove,



as a halo


lit in a dark field,


warm as a grove of


rosettes, speckle-throated cries caught in a nest.


            I’m out here


                                                where women


have wandered

                                    to be alone, 


where bites break bodies



like mine—

won’t you mark these mountain sides toxic?


Come nightfall,


                        let me play


with all my poison

common sense


then leave

like you:


            in personal expense.




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