IN THE DESERT, SOMEWHERE

In the Desert, Somewhere

Slack fibres split the beaded sand
beneath 5’10s whose soles
stuck against the edge of the sandstone
that blew back laughter from its belly;

and the nylon pack gripped my shoulders with dirty traction
while sweat drew marks in my charbroiled cheeks from a sky
that stung the flayed skin on my back,
and I drew an 8 with black hands
into the taut rope that strung my hips together.

I heard my voice call down
into the canyon’s cavity
before tendons of lifelines struck air,
and I swing into the draft that cooled
my bloated blisters, which popped and swum
beneath moleskin.

The ground met me in shadows
that hung with rivers
and I thought how wonderful it was
to be as human as this.

A Brief Consideration of the Mundane

Consider now, you’ve spent your light;
those shy corners where grace flickers
amid shadowy swells of melancholic gray,
and draws out life’s beauty from pits

of pitch and cosmic disarray - Reckon these
amid your vanishing day. Consider the way
the rose bud breaks to sun in autumn’s chill,
and cradles the downy flakes of winter’s moan,

its bashful embrace. Consider too, the knives
of March that split knuckles, and cut cherries
into cheeks. But your mother soaked up the sting
when she drew warm baths, and stitched

your skin with Vaseline. Resurrect the blackbird’s
hymn that drips light onto city’s spires,
scarred from sinter’s iron blade.
Cleave the sharp sound of laughter,

the thickening waistline of age, and the burn
marks of another’s soul. Consider the mirth which
digs trenches along the brow, and you’ll see
how well your life was spent.

Emma Seay graduated from Cleveland State University in the Spring of 2021 with a bachelors in English and an emphasis in Creative Writing. She then moved to the eastern slope of the Rockies, where she taught high school apologetics and philosophy, later meeting her husband and settling down in Denver with their two young children. She spends most of her afternoons chasing her toddler beneath the wide-open Colorado sky. Emma's other works can be found at the Wilderness House Literary Review