Wendy Howe
On the wall
of a half-burnt house
leaf shadows
palpitate.
Think of humming birds
(wound in flight)
pulling on moss and milkweed
to craft a nest,
or braided hair
shimmering in the sun
as a woman gathers
her bay berries and vine.
Wild things
she most boil and weave.
to survive.
On the wall
of the half-burnt house,
frost spackles
some of the cracked stucco.
And it’s known
the small birds
have already flown south
and the woman has passed
through the black pines
preparing to shape
her source of light and storage.
Enough candles for prayer,
enough baskets to keep
her salvaged bones.
***
Wendy Howe is an English teacher and freelance writer who lives in Southern California Her poetry reflects her interest in myth, diverse landscapes and ancient cultures. Over the years, she has been published in an assortment of journals both on-line and in print. Among them: The Linnet’s Wings, Ariadne’s Thread, Mirror Dance, Strange Horizons, Niteblade, Goblin Fruit, Mythic Delirium, Scheherezade’s Bequest, and Yellow Medicine Review. Some of her latest work will be forthcoming in The Peacock Journal and Poetry Pacific.