Poet: Jennifer Foerester
Poem: "Relic"
~*~
An atlas
on the underside of my dream.
My half-shut eyelid—
a black wing.
I dipped sharp quills
in the night’s mouth—
moths swarmed
from my throat.
I pulled a feather blanket
over my skeleton
and woke—
a map of America
flapping in the dark.
Once I dreamt
of inheriting this—
my mother
who still follows crows
through the field,
my sister’s small hand
tucked inside hers,
me on her breast
in a burial quilt.
YOU ARE READING
The Poem Book
PoetryA collection of poems, which I affectionately call 'The Poem Book.' Disclaimer: None of the poems within this book belong to me in any way.
