when I was smaller
I could speak to animals
trace the origins of dragons
through glittery scale residue
on midtown windowsills
bisect the secrets of the universe
in intimate penned conversations with
neighborhood faye who collected
my wisdom and milk teeth
opened the chimney flue to welcome
the spirits of late December eves
deciphered codes from the
flashing of lights across night skies and in
the dotting of holes in mothworn coats
these days I have so little to offer
but apologies
Rowan Waller holds degrees in Psychology and English from Regis University. Based outside of Durango, Colorado, they work as a climbing guide and outdoor educator. Their writing explores the psychological connections between humans and the natural world, often returning to memories of a tense childhood in the American South.
Waller’s poetry has appeared in Owen Wister Review, The Palouse Review, Outrageous Fortune, Catfish Creek, The Albion Review, Nimrod International Journal, The Tulsa Voice, Panoplyzine, and Moon Shadow Sanctuary Press, among others. New work is forthcoming in Screen Door Review and Eunoia Review.
