Sojourner
by Caroline Morrell


Because you love things in themselves
I walk the creek bed

exposing the loganberries that droop in pure black
along the pebbled footpath___a canopy flushed out

by weeds___I will take note of the white trillium
freckled with pink___wild ramp___jack-in-the-pulp

the cattail's musty root which insists
on suckling the wet mud
__________________________and I will tuck away

cricket flute___flapping bluegill___already an orchestra of brilliant
star grass that rises from between your bare toes

As you sit with me___once again and to feel milked willow roots squeeze themselves into the clay___masters of persistence

let them strangle with the hemlock___For the time being
we are two mossbacks
____________________________________________masking ourselves in the ferns






Copyright © 2024 by Red River Review. First Rights Reserved. All other rights revert to the authors.
No work may be reproduced or republished without the express written consent of the author.