What Stirs.

by Matthew Cherry

Shall we cut our rhymes from that ridge of coal,
that crawls beneath the owl-watched pine?

So green,
my memory,
and true.

What does he see?
That ancient mare,
in earth stirring.

That blackening equine gaze,
those leonine thighs.

Pacing in circles,
the width of my gyre,
we wear a white-bird torque,
the study of sodium,
armor against a clean death by drought.

Her hands,
broken sticks,
slipped through my fingers.

We pressed on, alone,
through the desert,
white shadows cut from the cloth of fear.

Matthew Cherry is a Creative Studies graduate student and Teaching Assistant at the University of Central Oklahoma, and a veteran in the United States Marine Corps Reserve. His fiction has been published in Calliope magazine, Necrology Shorts, and The Nautilus Engine. His true loves include Chimay Blue and any English word with all five vowels in alphabetical order. Give up yet? ‘Facetious.’

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s