by Jessica Coles
too much happens imperfectly rain clouds serve uncountable deities with acolytes in brown robes who don’t know how to drink what they spill I can’t find a hymn that sings perfection as a multiplicity of peonies months out of green, grass serves brown’s purpose while I untangle from ugliness, dig toes into dust’s wisdom invent plainsong prayers for rain wait for an old goddess to tell me what makes water spillable what imperfect droplet transforms the song in earth’s throat ____
Jessica Coles (she/her) is a poet and editor-on-hiatus, from Edmonton, Alberta, Canada (Treaty 6 territory), where she lives with her family and her judgmental tuxedo cat. Her first chapbook, unless you’re willing to evaporate (Prairie Vixen Press), was published in late 2019. Her poetry has also appeared in Prairie Fire Magazine and Write (The Writers’ Union of Canada).