the north fork

Barefoot, sifting through October ground
packing turtle bones for medicine.
One day she will no longer be
a woman who cries coyote but for now
she isn’t from here.  Of here.  Such an artist gathering
artifacts from the outside of a prayer. She wants
to step inside. She wants to know where women go
to get quiet. Asks the prairie grass. And this
water’s edge speaks back: Comes the day,
comes a man, banded hat, three eagle feathers,
singing her a map, an inventory of cloud
and thunder. Until then she stands
here, waiting for the storm.
Until then, unsure.

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About redmitten

author of Cracking Geodes Open, Making Good Use of August, and The Peppermint Bottle. poetry editor for IthacaLit. website: https://toomuchaugust.wordpress.com

8 responses to “the north fork

  1. Somber and lonely, in a beautiful way. I knew you would write something suitable for this photo. Well done!

  2. John Riley

    “She wants to step inside.” Loneliness.

  3. one of the most beautiful things i’ve read in a long time. love love love it. x j

  4. what a wonderful photo. Your words are well chosen too to match the mood of the photo…

    • redmitten

      thank you! took me a bit of time to arrive at what i was feeling that day, standing still along the north fork, feeling all that weather “coming in”. good to hear from you!

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