Construction Literary Magazine

June 2019

After and Between

After and Between
Photograph via Flickr by Matt Andrews Nashville Photographer

When a lion threatens
to sharpen his teeth on your bones
it might be too late.
When Chicken Little turns out to be right
without a shelter in sight
you have little recourse.
But if the wound, the stab, the tear
has left you wailing for release
the ambulance of art
will carry you beyond despond
between desire and atonement,
wearing your blue dress.
No one will see what you discover
as you move through what has shamed you
to the other side of loss, deaths
that fell from trees
now bare, but unique and bearable.