by Susan L. Leary
All fiction begins with the exposure
of a nest. In winter: tin rain. The grass
vanished. A medieval take on sky
& earth. To say childhood is trending
is not preposterous in the least. I lived
here & in a single day, I grew up.
A tumbling of saplings, then a tumbling
of hierarchies. Every tree but one
erased. An aristocrat, beneath the gaunt limbs,
in a velvety cloak examining the earth
with his thoroughly oversized eye. &
because all fiction is action, I count the bones
alongside him. I count every frayed
wing placed inside a bowl that is really
my skull made of twigs. Remnant
as remnant as proof of healing as false proof
of sky. Again, I begin in a room I
cannot touch. One that is image husked
of all drama. & do you believe me? The faint
prickling inside my hand, when opened:
pollen, spring …
Susan L. Leary is the author of five poetry collections, including More Flowers (Trio House Press, forthcoming 2026); Dressing the Bear (Trio House Press, 2024), selected by Kimberly Blaeser to win the 2023 Louise Bogan Award; and the chapbook, A Buffet Table Fit for Queens (Small Harbor Publishing, 2023), winner of the Washburn Prize. She holds an MFA from the University of Miami and lives in Indianapolis, IN.