a literary journal published by the Black Earth Institute dedicated to re-forging the links between art and spirit, earth and society
After “Another Antipastoral” by Vievee Francis and for the Huron River
down the mountain, floating a waterway that has always been inside me,
passage slick and hidden. How could I ignore this slipping, the ease of it?
Blood pulse, just as underestimated. Look, a heron is carving herself
into foreground, pause before fierceness. We are just as prehistoric.
See what I have forgotten— body as oar, a boat’s pathway, coursing.
There is a way beyond us. Water’s edge, an invitation. I have river too
much in my core, its plunge and sweep like a sob ready to burst. Here
joe pye weed’s pink fists, curly eel grass sunk and spiraled. My heart—
tuber of duck potato in the silted muck, pickerelweed, spiked arrow,
cattail driven deep in my marrow. There a solitary trumpeter drifts,
separated, but eventually gathering into cloud bank, dusk coming on.
Ellen Stone grew up on the north branch of the Susquehanna River in the Appalachian Mountains of rural northeastern Pennsylvania. She advises a poetry club at Community High School and co-hosts a monthly poetry series in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Ellen’s poems have appeared recently in Anti-Heroin Chic, Great Lakes Review, Rust + Moth and River Mouth Review, among other places. She is the author of The Solid Living World (Michigan Writers’ Cooperative Press, 2013) and What Is in the Blood (Mayapple Press, 2020). Ellen’s poetry has been nominated for the Pushcart prize and Best of the Net.