American Culture · American Literature · Contemporary · Online Anthology · Online Magazine · Periodical · Poetry

Leah Souffrant

It’s only when I look at trees—
This one—finally—reaching
Above the elevated train track
Trembling outside this window,
Glowing orange leaves scratched
On electric green, reaching
From the dirty earth—that I ask what it means
To be mortal, how we are living
Towards dying.
                        Sometimes your eyes glow like that,
Lashes tipped with sunlight, glimmer
Of wetness beneath.

— Leah Souffrant, “[It’s only when I look at trees],” Memorious 3, November 2004

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s