On Writing

Poem 222 – Ritual


I pull the twisting line of lavender sage
smoke over my heart with the strong backbone
and supple edges of a turkey feather

Help me, I whisper into the burning curl of moving shadow

when I try to touch the smoke it curves around my fingers
a reshaping wisp
becoming more itself as it lifts
spreads and dissipates into something
I cannot see but can smell and feel deeply

something that lets itself be absorbed
a message imprinting in the pages of my lungs
showing me how to let go and arrive how to burn
and rewrite in the displacement of shadows


The final day to submit to our open poetry call on the theme of community is August 24.

For submission guidelines, CLICK HERE.

What does community mean to you? What does it look like, smell like, taste like? How does it live in your life? Your body? Your mind? Has it shifted over the last year in the bumpy flow of the pandemic? Write! Write! Write about it!

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