a literary journal published by the Black Earth Institute dedicated to re-forging the links between art and spirit, earth and society
Those lungs, strong elastic maids.
It’s autumn. The air is warm
With leafmold. Everything
Is on fire. The heat of life dries
To a brilliant crisp. Your feet
Solid atop death’s sodden colors.
[and beneath you, the legs
which have brought you this far.]
You watch the change. A carnelian
Sugar maple leans into scintillating
Scarlet of red maple. Your thoughts
Leave an uncatchable echo, pleasantly lost
In the lurid river birches’ yellow.
You are auburn, you are beech. You watch
The change from inside it.
You stand at its foot with your human life.
A granny-smith green, mottled
slinking back—before it blooms
to make of these trees, they do
through xylem & phloem,
kissed to light.
Nothing more. (Sun? What element is sun?)
on this cool autumn day
But here, clean of smog, the city.
In all its heavy glory. It is good,
I wake up early for the silence
Genevieve Pfeiffer is a poet, herbalist, and teacher. They are the Assistant Director at Anomaly and will host its summer reading series in a beautiful NYC community garden (join us!) Their work is forthcoming or has been published in Frost Meadow Review, Quail Bell Magazine, Birdcoat Quartlerly, Juked, So to Speak, The Write Room, and others. They oscillate between NYC and the mountains, and you can find them where there are trees.
Other works by Genevieve Pfeiffer »