the elusive dark : slow curveof a mother’s spine : riverbank solid enough to stand : homea starsilver river of arms my mother’s riverbend is subtle& soft : her arms wet firefly light : home the far shore of her heart& i : the traveler boatless / / a green fish rises from my mother’swater : shows me how to take apart my bones : how to break & repositionthem to make of me a boat : ribcage hull : femur mast : scaffoldingof tibia & spine : if i leak i fill the gaps with teeth : the fish says if i use my skinfor sails i won’t need my mother’s body : yes i say but who will brush my hair
Copyright © 2019 by Raye Hendrix.
All rights reserved.
Reproduced by Poetry Daily with permission.
Raye Hendrix is a poet from Alabama who loves cats, crystals, and classic rock. Raye is the Web Editor for Bat City Review and has worked for Southern Humanities Review as Assistant Managing Editor. She earned her BA and MA in English from Auburn University and is pursuing her MFA at the University of Texas at Austin, where she was a finalist for the 2018 Keene Prize for Literature. Raye received honorable mentions for poetry from AWP’s Intro Journals Project (2015) and Southern Humanities Review’s Witness Poetry Prize honoring Jake Adam York (2014). Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Southern Indiana Review, the Chattahoochee Review, Shenandoah, The Pinch, and elsewhere.