Look up: steep vertigo tilting back to take it all in— the amplitude of columns, radiant branches and circles crossing—the reaches too vast. A forest is only dark at the base. In midair, a wind more toothed rushes. Shed leaves catch midfall, gather dust and rain, become soil mats poised in the seam. Then, welcome. Then, home. Insect trails, birdchatter. Amphibious huddles just enough water. One redwood holding its forest miniatures of chainfern, huckleberry, small trees floating into sunshaft on cuttings of earth. Oh wandering salamander drifting from lichen to shrub, all life aloft, crownly: lifted.
Jennifer K. Sweeney (she/her) is the author of five poetry collections: Foxlogic, Fireweed (Backwaters Press/Univ. of Nebraska), Little Spells, How to Live on Bread and Music, which received the James Laughlin Award, the Perugia Press Prize and a nomination for the Poets’ Prize, and Salt Memory. The collaborative chapbook, Dear Question, with L.I. Henley, was published in late 2024 from Glass Lyre Press. The recipient of a Pushcart Prize, her poems have appeared widely in journals, most recently in About Place, Cider Press Review, Guesthouse, Orion, Poetry Northwest, Rogue Agent, Sixth Finch, The Shore, Terrain, Waxwing.
