by Lyd Havens You will be like a foal, says my mother when I talk about re-entering someday. The fleeing is still so vivid, as if it hasn’t ended yet. Un-greened pasture, stagnant womb. I fantasize about the crowds I never questioned; the lake full of tamed jellyfish on the other side of the world. It’s true, my legs feel so new these days. They fold like a deck of cards under me when I stare at the sky. Kumquat light staining the shingles. A small tornado of feathers in my backyard. I want to ask, where is the bird? Does it miss itself? ____
Lyd Havens is the author of the chapbooks I Gave Birth to All the Ghosts Here (Nostrovia! Press, 2018) and Chokecherry (Game Over Books, 2021). Their work has previously been published in Ploughshares, The Shallow Ends, and Tinderbox Poetry Journal, among others. Lyd lives in Boise, Idaho, where they will graduate from Boise State University in December 2021.