Map of Distant Things
We welcome guest blogger, Vicki Whicker. Vicky is a poet and artist living in Exeter, NY. She’s a member of the Los Angeles Poets and Writers Collective and the Catskill’s Bright Hill Seeing Things Poets. Her poetry and flash can be found in literary magazines, Seeing Things anthologies, and in her chapbook Caught Before Flight. Her art has hung in solo shows, at The Griffin Museum of Photography, and published in Orion magazine.
I’m here, old as the sun. The grand cat purrs
and my golden-boy retrieves
all the balls
I was willing to throw. Which is to say,
I’m done. Though he’ll never stop
dropping orbs at my feet—
sticky with hope. I’m here, this fine day—
one foot mired in the muck
of maudlin outcomes,
one foot in the garden, dancing
with this crisp Autumn.
Edged by darkness—
a thick forest of bad paths.
I’m lost in the choices—
left, right, straight…
Prescribed poisons.
Surgeon’s knives,
Radiating burns.
I want stay here, with the butterflies—brilliant
wings built for a season,
their clear blue destinies.
