Emily K. Bright
About this Poet:
My poetry has been published in the North American Review, the Crab Orchard Review, Beloved on this Earth: 150 Poems of Grief and Gratitude (Holy Cow! Press, 2009) and Come Together: Imagine Peace (Bottom Dog Press, 2008), among others. I teach writing at the University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire.
You know they were trees, and recently:
stripped down, interlaced like fingers,
four walls rising log by log.
Piled graying trunks await their turn,
straight like phone poles—no, like trees.
So easy to forget the origin of things.
We have planed boards, steel, pre-made
doors that close exactly. Someone rides
a lawnmower across the road, away.
Who is building this log cabin upward
from the dirt? More thistle inside,
Queen Anne’s lace at waist-high.
Bees tasting where the stove should go.
When the roof blocks out the light,
save four-foot door and window slit,
who will notice the elaborate
rippling where each branch was?
The doorframe oozes pitch.
Don’t paint this house, don’t finish it.
The wind stirs from behind me.
Green stalks sway inside the walls and out.
Copyright ©2009 by Emily K. Bright