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Dislocation - Sarah Wyman

There where we walked over stones

between cliff face and sea

trees stretched our spirits

to sunshine, to sky

and the stream’s drill awoke

the blood, tunneling mud,

dusk’s temporary tanglings

with the earth that supports us.

And here, fenced in by the departed,

the task too large, too trivial

when whatever bond between us

becomes nothing more than a passing bridge

over, under, beyond which the flowing bath

obscures the solace of solitude

that grates like granite,

any touch rubs like a rubber step on rough surface,

like the catching heel before the jump.


Sarah Wyman writes and teaches on verbal / visual intersections and lives in the Hudson Valley where climbing feet kick dust down to a river-sea. Her poetry has appeared in Aaduna, Mudfish, Ekphrasis, San Pedro River Review, Potomac Review, Petrichor Review, Heron Clan VII, Chronogram, Shawangunk Review, A Slant of Light: Contemporary Women Poets of the Hudson Valley (Codhill), and other venues. Finishing Line Press published her chapbook Sighted Stones (2018).



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