My mind chattering, lay hold of me. Lay hold.

bird-simone-sbaraglia

Remember the giant whooping crane on the county highway
whose mate had been hit, stretched out dead at the center
of the road? She stood by him, wings open and flapping, shrewd
voice anxious, screaming, her dark red crown bowing in her descent
through the rim of despair. With each oncoming car she took a short
running flight to get our of the way, pacing the side of the road until
she could return to him. The next day, when still there, exhausted,
wings tattered and brown, we scraped what left of her lover
off the asphalt with a snow shovel, and laid the body on the low,
dry treadgrass by the embankment. The birds had come that July
to our swill, which had filled with monsoon rain. She stood there
close to us, in the still, yellowing grass, her interminable legs wobbling
underneath her body. The long toes of her feet twitching. That
shallow silver dish of my mind chattering, lay hold of me. Lay hold.

~ Elizabeth Jacobson,”Lay Hold of Me,” The American Poetry Review (July/August 2016)


Notes: Poem – Memory’s Landscape. Photo: Simone Sbaraglia

Comments

  1. Dear God…
    This caught me off guard!
    Blood is rushing everywhere.
    Who needs therapy when there is words. Words rubbing wounds.
    Wow.

    Liked by 3 people

  2. Christie says:

    Crying…

    Liked by 1 person

  3. absolute love.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. “…her dark red crown bowing in her descent through the rim of despair.” This piece took my breath away. The agony is palpable….

    Liked by 1 person

  5. WLS – shattering

    Liked by 1 person

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