Monday, 26 November 2018

A poem by Erin Wilson

When I Hold You Red Bursts Through the Eye 


Something about holding one another
and all of the years of shepherding the summer born tomatoes.

And maybe the lamb finally coming together with them
cooking lovely and steaming, slowly brewing on the stovetop.

All of the blistering days before in the winters tending to the animals.
And then the one windy day when they were cudgelled.

Something about holding one another
through all the warming of the capillerous reds rising
and all of the brutalities befalling like hunks of coal.

Something about the holding and the steeping.
Something about time.









Erin Wilson has contributed poems to West Texas Literary Review, San Pedro River Review, New Madrid and Minola Review, with work forthcoming from Split Rock Review, The American Journal of Poetry. She lives and writes in a small town in northern Ontario.

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