Such October Pain This Day
by Joanne Lowery
|
A ball and socket lives there
halfway up the body
at the top of the walking part
scraping batter in an old bowl.
The soul can handle that
even as the harvest withers.
But on the glory path
where even poison ivy redeems itself
in red ascension up the oaks
and gold ovals synchronize locust
a stob interrupts the foot
slushing through leaves.
That headlong shock shoots
up the leg and finds its mark.
This is new, electric
in its search for the key
dangling below the heart.
What hurts turns toward the sun
where the hickory prays.
A bit of tar gums up bones,
the world's on fire,
and surprise feels staggering.
|
 |
|
|
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. |