I bring river grass and splay it at the base.
I bring a worn shirt, a feather, a poem—
arrange them as offering. It stands silent.
I cut a path in spring, when overgrowth towers,
thatch fronds around my shoes to wade the mud.
It does not echo the way of stories.
I sing and yell. I scare ravens and hawks with such madness,
they pump back into sky.
I hold papered leaves into the light to etch their lace,
repent at the cackle of coyotes near winter, scavenging food and warmth.
I walk the pace of bones. I gather sticks for a den. I walk in lines of rain.
I walk. And the days are rucked with my own understanding.
About the Author
Megan Merchant lives in the tall pines of Prescott, AZ. She is the author of two full-length poetry collections: Gravel Ghosts (Glass Lyre Press, Awarded 2016 Best Book Award), The Dark’s Humming (Awarded 2015 Lyrebird Prize, Glass Lyre Press), four chapbooks, and a forthcoming children’s book with Philomel Books. Most recently, she was the recipient of the 2016-2017 COG Literary Award, judged by Juan Felipe Herrera, U.S. Poet Laureate. She was also the recipient of the Las Vegas Poets Prize. You can find her work at meganmerchant.wix.com/poet.