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I HAUNT THIS WOOD, IT HAUNTS ME Judy Longley A shrunken acre of maple, oak and ash, a fistful of pens scribbling arboreal history on the parchment each dawn unrolls, shading the surround of Monopoly board homes. A reminder of the immeasurable forest our naked hungry selves could not reach the limits of, where we enacted our grave industry of hunter and hunted in deepest shade, sleeping under starry eaves, our predators pacing the snow pack, slit eyes slanted upward. Each day I enter the story, my fingers explore bark’s rough Braille, a wood thrush trills, pierces the cacophany of city walls, traffic’s gutteral exhaust. Deer swim from their margin of brush, five gray ghosts... or two...or three...

My dream body captures glittering paragraphs bold against the sky, crows explode into a flight of arrows. With night’s winged descent I dance among dark pillars, my legs grown long, stemmed, each phosphorescent step releases old moons, the wind saturated with ancient vowels wolves blow from the edge of time.

WILD HEDGE Judy Longley A scarlet blur bursts through the understory becomes cardinal in image darting through my lens into the tidy parlor of consciousness: my mother’s voice lifting me to a farm house window crying red bird, red bird! A yellow swallowtail undulates along the perimeter where wood, garden, my unpruned heart converge, weaving vine to grasp my mother’s delicate wrists, the wingspan of her fingers against glass.

Written River: A Journal of Eco-Poetics Vol 1 Issue 1  

Written River is a literary journal published bi-annually by Hiraeth Press which focuses on poetry and non-fiction prose exploring nature an...

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