from circumference

By Laura Walker

map no 5

we wear cinders in block patterns
(dust torn thick as shoals
needing two and taking three
each hand run softly             thistles
splinters bearing down

he was soft along the edges, hazy
breath white, a gift for salamanders
along the edges of the thistle pool

needing to go down

and the lines toward path: taking up the sparrows

map no 212

what went west was found
(dear ben
tiny willow devices
the lungs filled with smoke, supposing
outward toward the lip
white thrush planted in rows

galloping on ahead: rural, its turned up collar
she lived where the trailer went
spit toothpaste toward the ground
(lost in drain and water

(her face             loose

map no 10

in the greening and the sound
girls in bright dresses, a wound that
taking us on the stairway
(shallow break on the northern side
roots and thistles

who left rustling metal in a ditch
cows among ruins
side of a starling

map no 68

pull hair and white wire
(dear girl
shove westward from the shore
returned thirty years
a girl in limed skirt
and creek water

sleeves of honeysuckle vine
crops lush and abandoned

map no 68

the flight along the sleeve
the line of a honeybee

thread pouring
water held against the throat

fifty yards to the deep creek bed
waving her arms, and time

map no 68

spelt longing, shell looming against
made the spell and sun             look up
culling the vines and wed

thirty years along the wet
skirts pulled partially around

map no 68

hands held fervently against the face
that in knotting. in knowing
red sorrows and awake:

we wrapped ourselves in braids
lined the shelves with paper
pulled tickseed through barbed wire