by Alicia Elkort
Out there, the dead don’t stand a salt white chance.
My ears instinct inwardly, a cat’s tail curled at damp ground.
There are lilies and there are peonies, but there are never roads returned.
The deer have jumped the fence, the faded white fence around my precipice.
If you were to cross the sidewalk, there would be sprays of eglantine.
Sweetbrier is another name—the way our toes touch silk.
Have you never thistled or cobalted across a meadow?
It’s the only way to remain of one peace while the world seethes.
Tell me, where is an un-ruined place where we are wanted?
Alicia Elkort's first book of poetry, A Map of Every Undoing, was published in 2022 by Stillhouse Press with George Mason University, after winning their book contest. Alicia's poetry has been nominated several times for the Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net, and the Orison Anthology, and her work appears in numerous journals and anthologies. She reads for Tinderbox Poetry Journal and works as a Life Coach in Santa Fe, NM where the clouds astonish. For more info or to watch her two video poems: https://aliciaelkort.mystrikingly.com/.
