Eryn Green
Bones
I want to re-call this house with pebbles
from the ground—honestly, beautiful enough—little round dream of
thirty years—a winter’s hat— no sound when you call—expecting
love to be love—/ disappointed until not—/ grapes peeling, body whispering
yr impossible—me too—a diver’s chute
failing—again, falling—into a church
parking lot—radio blaring // under water—soft
white freight trains—deep
light—choked on snow,
scenery—cheer up dear, it wasn’t always so bad
for me—rain knocked out power lines—
you wrote mountains across my tired back
in sheets as still and as whole as white sails of straw air—
couples carrying umbrellas inside-out—wind blowing boats
over scattered arrows of frozen wheat
