under rocks, edging out beneath rotten logs,
on tendrils of Creeping Jenny
on your kiss
already a memory.
On the kitchen floor
in falling feathers slipping out of nests,
she looks for daily epiphanies–
and is met
by the living and dying
and tingling sadness
or is that the sound of a train?
Somewhere in Kansas or Paris,
crossing the Rockies–
chugging along the west branch of the Susquehanna
where a memory remains of a girl fishing
and that memory once vivid is now
a broken chord in the key of C.
She wishes for a small band
of light to encircle her–
maybe a fragment of the Aurora Borealis.
Pink, no green–
to circle and circle–
a hawk — landing on her heart.
about the author:
Lisa Harris, MFA (Bard College Avery School of the Arts), writes poetry, short fiction, and novels. Recently, her poetry has been published in journals such as, FACETS, SLAB, The Coe Review, and descant. Her novel, ALLEGHENY DREAM, won first place in THE AUTHOR’S ZONE, Pittsburgh, 2015. Crack the Spine published “Three Women,” a linked sudden fiction, this spring, and The Penmen (University of Southern New Hampshire) published “Birds of a Feather,” an excerpt from her novel, CROW KNOWS, forthcoming in 2017 from Ravenna Press (Seattle.)