Page 76 - Dark Matter Women Witnessing

Kyce Bello

Correspondence with the High Country

Words spill, aconite blossoms

gathered creekside.

Deep purple petals pressed

against the page, smudges

spread across your palm,

dark in the basket’s bowl.

Though the stream disappears

into long grasses

and cold ground dips

into hollows,

you go on gathering till morning.

Correspondence with My Garden

The letter came, a white wing

envelope opened

like the sphinx moth

whose careening

maps the garden’s scrawled branches,

or the mourning dove