Mourning doves pray
over the body of the
dying night—corpse
heavy in the warmth.
Day swells in the mouths
of wildflowers, yawning wide
the purple absence of an empty
field. Blooming hearts, asters
and coneflowers, bleed along the
side of the road. Some attempt
to crawl up the trees, forgetting
their earthly bodies, earthly roots—
over the body of the
dying night—corpse
heavy in the warmth.
Day swells in the mouths
of wildflowers, yawning wide
the purple absence of an empty
field. Blooming hearts, asters
and coneflowers, bleed along the
side of the road. Some attempt
to crawl up the trees, forgetting
their earthly bodies, earthly roots—
Callan Latham is a poet and a writer. Her work has recently appeared in Crêpe & Penn, Angry Old Man Magazine, and the Ohio’s Best Emerging Poets 2019 anthology. She attends the University of Iowa and spends her days wishing for
the sea.
the sea.