Sarah Escue holds a BA in English writing from the University of South Florida and will attend Naropa University for her MFA in creative writing and poetics in the fall. She serves as the Assistant Editor at The Adirondack Review and is the recipient of fellowships from the Bucknell Seminar for Younger Poets and Writers in Paradise. Her poems appear or are forthcoming in Gulf Stream, So To Speak, Damselfly Press, Milk Journal, and elsewhere.
August 31, 2016
Fields grow numb with winter.
Through pines, the throaty pink
hour of evening staggers,
like a sleepy child heavy on her feet.
Need I remind you?
All that's still once fell.
In the garden, a maple unwrites
scarlet letters to dusk.
and fall to the hard ground.
Birds fly in a V to somewhere warmer.
Here's the bedroom: empty chest
of drawers, raw mattress,
flowers wilt on the windowsill.
you came and went,
benumbing the earth,
ungardening all I planted.
Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published weekly by Glass Poetry Press.
All contents © the author.