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Stashed under a Bush

By (June 1, 2016) No Comment

returning for a moment
the answers are temporary

the too large things
we grasp on to

the neck
and its minute wilderness

the small things – thoughts, hopes –
we take for a walk

and leave in our wake, a snail trail
no one will follow

the fresh green edges of each leaf
provide a perimeter

we edge around
unable to name

exactly what about each leaf
is available, a possible inviting

anonymous and familiar
the subtle sound of air between us

filling the tremendous lapses
becomes a center

fires up our most beautiful ganglia
how it swells

we don’t know how
we trust it

Linda Russo is the author of three books of poems: Meaning to Go to the Origin in Some Way (Shearsman 2015), Participant, winner of the Lost Roads Press Brigham Award (2016), and Mirth (Chax Press, 2008); To Think of Her Writing Awash in Light was selected by John D’Agata as the winner of the Subito Press lyric essay/creative nonfiction prize (2016). She lives in eastern Washington State.



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