utilize breath to clear a path
after arrears paid to the gate, the quietude settles in like a Sewanee fog, each tree a
surprise to the senses. goldtag and quantum masters, the quick tray for lunch cracked
on the snowy slope. go figure, a distant form, glomming onto any hope
like a tick. alabaster cities from the view. merchants from the middle ages hoping
to catch us after the hike. tilted cities ringing, the ringers holding on to no hope. if
anything, we should paper the town in poems, trip us all into pause. red beans
on the horizon, a bolster of old plastic for an amphitheater. cram us in, we’ll watch.
huts pop up like mushrooms, canisters of rust marking the paths.
quantify this, the apple haul, catch any baseballs hurtling through the mist.
Naomi Buck Palagi has made her way to eastern Mississippi via several stops, including rural Kentucky, the Mississippi Delta, Chicago, and Sewanee, Tennessee. She enjoys shaping tangible things—wood, fabric, sound, words. She has published a book, Stone, with BlazeVOX Books, and has some chapbooks and a range of journal publications. She currently hosts the virtual series Columbus Spoken Word and Arts Exhibition, contactable at spokenwordandarts@gmail.com.
At home in Northern California, Karen Pierce Gonzalez is a mixed-media assemblage artist. Her work has been shown at Truckenbrod Gallery (Oregon), Santa Rosa Arts Center, Sebastopol Center for the Arts, TINY GALLERIES, Virtual Art in the Park and other places. Each piece is a conversation with tree bark, branches, roots, chalk/oil pastels, fibers, found materials and, when lucky (really lucky), salmon leather. Website: karenpiercegonzalez.blogspot.com.