Perception Magazine Fall 2020

Wood Sameeha Saied I wander aimlessly One summer night, Streetlights behind me, Warming the aegean lace on my back.

Ahead, cedar branches cradle darkness.

Porcelain zephyr bites my cheekbones.

I stand idle, trapped between frost and ember.

With fisted hands and a misplaced breath, I treat forward.

Five paces ahead, I come to a clearing.

Streaks of jasmine sever the pine darkness.

To the right, a small cascade Joins with a narrow stream.

Jagged, moss-smothered rocks Escort pellucid water downstream, Placating it until the white filters deep blue.

Maroon-painted toes step with haste Across the greensward.

The still air vibrates from a susurration.

My ebony hair lashes my cheek With the force of my neck.

Against a tree trunk sits an agouti rabbit.

Round, hickory eyes level with my own.

I cannot tell which are covered in moisture.

I tear my irises away.

Stepping cautiously, I cross the clearing, Bending toward the stream.

My right hand disappears into the blue, One finger at a time.

38 | Perception