• Emily Misura

The Harborist

Could it be

that a hole can grow

from the knot of a tree,

a void from where wood

& grain & rings & water

all evacuate and retreat

into some unfounded

new darkness?

Just as a burl evades

the lathe,

the hollow founders

as obligate leaves

still the silence.

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stale urine leaf light a baroque quintet from conspicuous speakers at 7/11. shucked feet plucked feathers an internal dialogue between delineations of haunt vs haunted. rusty sclera immutable gravel -

© 2020 by Emily Misura